


Still Not Easy

by goomy_is_love



Series: Skuldalið [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Gen, I don't know what else to tag this as, Implied Mpreg, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Iron Man 3 Spoilers, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Thor: The Dark World Spoilers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Violence, non recreational drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-29 22:55:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 40,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3913747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goomy_is_love/pseuds/goomy_is_love
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Skuldalið. IM3, Thor 2, and Cap 2 complaint. After moving back to Malibu with her dad, Erika thinks life will go back to normal. She couldn't be more wrong. After the Mandarin attack, she and Tony move back to Manhattan, and Erika is reunited with her adopted Avengers family-and her blood relatives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello!  
> This is part three of my Erika Stark Series, so I suggest reading the first two parts, otherwise you might get a bit lost.

**Malibu, California, 1999—New Years Eve**

Nine year old Erika Stark sat with her dad’s assistant on the couch, watching a Disney movie.

“Where’s Daddy?” she asked in a quiet voice.

Her dad’s assistant, Pepper, hugged her closer and ran her hand through Erika’s hair. “Your dad had to go to Switzerland to talk to important people. He should be back tomorrow.”

“Oh. Okay.” She yawned.

“Okay, time for bed,” said Pepper, turning the TV off.

“Not tired,” the little girl mumbled.

Pepper smiled and scooped the child up in her arms and took her upstairs to her room. She tucked the little girl in and kissed her forehead. “Goodnight, Erika.”

The mumbled, “Night, Momma,” nearly broke Pepper’s heart.

**Present Day**

Erika adjusted her violin for what seemed like the thousandth time, glancing at the sheet music in front of her. “Okay, let’s try this again,” she sighed, setting the instrument in place. She played a few notes, then delved right into the music.

Five minutes later, a pain in her left leg made her abruptly stop and grit her teeth, almost making her drop her violin.

“Damn it!” she cursed, setting the violin down with a huff and massaging her leg. She reached for her cane—polished black wood with a bronze Chinese dragon acting as the handle—and hoisted herself up from the couch, hobbling up to her bedroom for her pain medication.

“ _Miss Stark, May I remind you that you have already consumed more than the recommended dosage of medication in the past two hours?”_ J.A.R.V.I.S’s voice sounded overhead.

“Don’t care,” Erika grunted. “Hurts.”

Stupid pain meds. Stupid nerve damage. Stupid kidnapping terrorists with their stupid torture, and their stupid fucking—”

“ _Miss Stark, you’re rambling out loud, again.”_

Erika flipped the AI off and popped two pills. “When’s Dad gonna be back from lunch with Rhodey?” she asked tiredly. “I wanna do more tests.”

The cane only got her so far, so Tony had offered to build her a brace with a built-in numbing agent to help her get around easier. He’d been doing a lot of building, lately—her brace and the Mark 42 were only a few of the many projects he had going.

Tony hadn’t been sleeping well, and he’s had a lot of people worried about him. Erika wondered if the stress from dying in the wormhole and being scared back to life was finally catching up with him.

“ _Sir is expected to return from his meeting with Colonel Rhodes in approximately one hour. However, due to a recent anxiety attack, he is now en route back to the house.”_

Erika choked on the water she was using to take her pills. “Panic attack? _Him?_ ”

“ _Yes, Ma’am.”_

“Shit.”

When Tony got home, Erika confronted him down in his workshop. “What’s this I hear about a panic attack?” she asked, hobbling through the glass doors of the workshop.

Tony disengaged the suit and tried his best to look normal. “What? What attack? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said quickly, sitting at a workbench and pulling up a hologram. “Hey, let’s work on that brace of yours, yeah?”

Erika sighed. “Dad, don’t deflect—J.A.R.V.I.S said you freaked out during your lunch with Rhodey. What happened?”

Tony sighed. “It’s nothing, alright? It was a fluke. I’m fine. Brace. Now. Please.”

Erika shook her head. “Fine, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

 

-       - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

Erika held up her badge the minute she approached the Stark Industries building and had Happy in her sights. “Where’s Pepper?” she asked, making her way to where he stood.

“She’s in a meeting with someone. I don’t like the look of him,” said Happy, watching the glass doors from a distance.

Pepper came out with a tall blond man in a suit and Erika’s immediate thought was “Hell No’ when she saw him kiss pepper’s cheek. She never took her eyes off of him until he was in a black SUV and Happy took a picture of the car. “You’re right,” she said. “I don’t like him.”

Happy moved to get Pepper and tell her that her car was ready. “Erika,” said Pepper. “What are you doing here?” She moved to hug the younger girl.

“Just here to give you a head’s up—there’s something at home for you, and I swear it wasn’t my idea,” said Erika.

She almost laughed when they got home and pepper saw the rabbit, and she really did laugh when they came in and the Mark 42 was sitting on the couch.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” said Erika, wandering down the hall to her room. She didn’t want to be Tony when Pepper found out the Mark 42 was walking around without Tony in it.

Later that night, when she came out to the kitchen to get a glass of water (more pain meds), she was surprised to see Pepper coming down the stairs in her pajamas, looking upset.

“What’s wrong?’ Erika asked, immediately thinking the worst. “Is something wrong with Dad? Did he have another freak-out?”

Pepper gave her an incredulous look. “So you knew about his trouble sleeping? Why am I the last to know?” she sighed, looking tired.

Erika gave her a sheepish look. “I caught him dozing in his lab. I was happy to see him sleeping, but then the freak-out started.” Erika sighed and leaned heavily against her cane. “I’m scared, Pepper—I don’t know how to help him.”

Pepper gathered her in a hug and held her.


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this should run pretty IM3 compliant. This chapter is unbeta’d, so All mistakes are mine

 

 

-          - - - - - - - -- - - -- - --  -

 

 

The Mandarin.

A terrorist.

A man who got his rocks off by bombing innocent people. He bombed the Chinese Theater, and Happy got caught in the blast.

Erika went with Tony to visit Happy in the hospital, and she looked just as angry as Tony did when they stepped out of the hospital to all the members of the press.

“We’re awaiting the arrival of Tony Stark. We’re hoping he’ll give us his reaction to the latest attack,” Erika heard a woman say just as she and Tony stepped out of the building.

‘Here we go,’ she thought, and then the onslaught began.

“Mr. Stark! Our sources are telling us that this is another Mandarin attack. Anything else you can tell us?” One woman asked as she and other reporters crowded Tony on the way to his car, Erika hot on his heels.

“Hey Mr. Stark! When is somebody gonna kill this guy?” some jerk with an iphone asked.

Erika repressed a groan. Great.

Tony turned around, and he was _pissed._ “Is that what you want?” he asked tensely. “Here’s a little holiday greeting I’ve been wanting to send to the Mandarin. I just didn’t know how to phrase it until now.”

Erika cringed. “Don’t do anything stupid, Dad,” she muttered, but she was ignored. She could only watch in horror as Tony gave the whole world their home address and basically told the Mandarin ‘come and get me.’

“Why would you do that?” she asked when they got home? “I can’t believe you! There’s a NUTCASE out there, and you just _give him our address_. What the hell, Dad?”

“Relax, I’ve got it handled,” was all he said before disappearing into his lab.

“Yeah, great,” Erika muttered. She really didn’t want to deal with this right now, so she went up to her room. “I’m just gonna go pack my stuff,” she called down the stairs.

She got no reply.

Erika sighed and wandered to her room, flopping down on the mattress, her cane clattering to the floor.

She missed New York. She missed the Avengers. She missed her brothers.

She missed her family.

‘Mom would have ripped him a new one,’ Erika though, and then she drifted off in an uneasy sleep.

Pepper was pissed when she found out what Tony did, and they argued for a long time over whether or not to leave for a while. Tony didn’t want to, and he said so multiple times, before saying he had work to do and going down to his lab.

“Start packing,” Pepper told Erika. “We’re leaving.”

Right as Erika finished packing a bag, the doorbell rang.

“Seriously?” Erika muttered, grabbing her cane and wandering out to the living room.

The Mark 42 was intercepting an unfamiliar brunette woman at the door. “Weird time for guests,” said Erika, looking the woman up and down. “Who’s your friend?” she asked just as Pepper’s bags dropped from the floor below.

“Tony, is somebody there?” Erika heard Pepper ask as she came down the stairs.

“Yeah, it’s Maya Hansen,” said Tony, walking towards the stairs. “Old botanist pal that I used to know, barely.” He turned back to the woman—Maya—and said, “Please don’t tell me there’s a 12-year-old kid waiting in the car I’ve never met.”

Erika snorted. Great—one of his old one-night stands. That’s just what they needed.

“He’s 13,” said Maya, and Tony’s eyes widened comically before Maya said, “No, I need your help.”

Tony didn’t look happy about her little scare. “What for? Why now?”

“Because I read the papers, and, frankly, I don’t think you’ll last the week.”

They went back and forth, and then Pepper started in on the conversation, and then Tony and Pepper started arguing.

Erika was just about to lay into Maya and ask her what the hell she needed from Tony, but the brunette was looking distractedly at the TV.

“Guys . . . do we, um . . . . .” started Maya. “Do we need to worry about that?” she asked, pointing to the TV, which showed that there was a missile headed right for them, and Erika had exactly two seconds to panic before the whole house shook and she and Maya went flying.

More explosions rocked the house, and her vision was swimming. The Mark 42 grabbed Maya and hauled her up, and then grabbed Erika and pulled her up, too. They stumbled along and Erika realized when the repulsers weren’t working that _Pepper was in the suit_. They managed to get out, but then if Pepper was in the suit wh _ere was Tony?_

“Dad!” Erika called out weakly, struggling to get up, and she screamed when she saw their home was collapsing,

“ ** _DAD!”_**

Erika shot to her feet, ignoring her leg’s protests, and she did her best to run back to the house. “ ** _DAD!”_**

**_“_** Erika ** _, no!”_**

Erika barely heard Pepper, and she almost fell when the Mark 42 whizzed past her towards the wreckage in front of her.

**_“DAD!”_ **

“Erika, get out!” Tony roared, the Mark 42 attaching itself to him, and that was the last thing he said before he fell into the ocean with the rest of the crumbling structure.

“ ** _NO! DAD!”_**

No, no, no nonononNO ** _NO!_**

She was barely aware of Pepper grabbing her and holding her back from diving in after Tony. She sagged in Pepper’s arms, sobbing.

He was gone.

 

 

-       - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

“Pepper, it’s me. I’ve got a lot of apologies to make and not a lot of time, so first off. I’m so sorry I put you in harm’s way. That was selfish and stupid and it won’t happen again. Also, it’s Christmas time. The rabbit’s too big. Done. Sorry. And I’m sorry in advance because . . . I can’t come home yet. I need to find this guy. You gotta stay safe. That’s all I know. You and Erika, you gotta stay safe for me. Tell her . . . tell her I’m sorry, and I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“. . . “

“I just stole a poncho from a wooden Indian.”  
  


 

-       - - - - - - - - - - - -- - -

 

 

The press were having a field day.

While firefighters and paramedics crowded the site of Tony’s wrecked home, everyone was already speculating what had happened to Iron Man.

He was being presumed dead.

Erika was numb.

She’d lost him. She’d lost him _again_ , and he wasn’t coming back.

First Loki, then her siblings, and now Tony.

She was crying when Pepper found her, and when she told Erika Tony was alive and let her hear his message, she cried even harder with relief.

“I need to leave with Maya,” Pepper told her. “I need you to get somewhere safe.” She pressed a plane ticket into Erika’s hands, along with a folded slip of paper. “Go to this address, alright? I need to keep you safe.”

Erika looked down at the ticket, and then she looked at the address.

Who the hell did Pepper know that lived in _Iceland?_

 

 

-       - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

The address Pepper had given her was for a really nice apartment building. Whoever lived here was up in the penthouse.

She still didn’t know who lived here.

Adjusting her grip on her cane, Erika hobbled over to the elevator, dragging her suitcase behind her. She got a few funny looks from the people in the elevator when she pushed the button for the penthouse. She ignored them, though, and exited the elevator, stopping in front of the door with the right apartment number on it. She knocked three times and waited.

She didn’t recognize the man that answered at first.

He was tall and pale, with sharp features, short black hair, and eyes the color of sea glass, dressed in a gray Henley and really nice sweatpants.

He looked surprised to see her, and said in a voice and a language she hadn’t heard in over two years, “ _How in the Nine Realms did you find me?”_

Erika swallowed back the sudden sting in her throat.

“ _Jormungand?”_

-       - - - - - -- - - - - - - -

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, show of hands, and be honest—who saw that coming?


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jor’s back! Yay!
> 
> Pepper and Tony belong to Marvel. Erika belongs to me, and Jormungand kind of belongs to me, but not really.

 

-          **\- - - - - - - - - - - - - -**

 

 

“Holy shit,” Erika breathed. “She found you. She actually _found you_!” She laughed and surged forward, dropping her luggage and cane and grabbing her brother around the middle, openly crying. “I thought I’d never see you again,” she sniffed. “You left, and we were all _so worried.”_

Jormungand snorted. “ _I highly doubt that. Come in, if you must,”_ he said, prying her arms off of him and turning to go back inside.

Erika smiled and grabbed her things, moving slowly into the apartment. “Nice place,” she said, leaving her suitcase by the door and taking a few steps forward. She noticed Jormungand was frowning at her cane, and she tapped her leg once with it lightly. “Kidnappers, about a year ago, remember? They did a number on me—nerve damage in my leg means I’ll never walk like a normal person again.”

Jormungand sighed and offered her his arm. She took it, and they walked over to the big leather couch in the middle of the room. He sat her down, and then went to the kitchen. He returned with a steaming mug of something.

_“_ Why are you here _?”_ he asked, and Erika belatedly realized he hadn’t been speaking English earlier.

Erika sipped her drink—tea, she realized. “Have you heard of the Mandarin?” she asked shakily.

Jormungand nodded. “Only briefly, but he has been in the news as of late.”

“He attacked Dad, and now Dad’s MIA, and Pepper went off somewhere and told me to come here—I had no idea where here was, and I don’t know how she found you . . . . I’m glad she did.” She looked up cautiously at her brother.

He looked different, yet at the same time she could see traces of her brother in this new face.

“Why did you leave?”

Jormungand sighed. “I truly am sorry—I couldn’t stay there. Not after . . . . .” he trailed off, shaking his head. “Apologies. I’ve moved on, for the most part, but it still hurts sometimes, to think about it.”

Erika patted the space beside her. Jormungand sat down, and she leaned against him.

“He was worried about you, too, you know,” she said quietly. “We all were.” A pause, then she let out a snort that turned into a giggle. “I slapped him, when I found your note. I _slapped Captain America,_ right across that stupid chiseled face of his.”

Jormungand chucked.

A high-pitched wail from the other room made Jormungand groan. “Not now,” he muttered, hauling himself up and leaving the room.

“That sounded like a kid,” said Erika after Jormungand’s retreating form. “Why is there a kid here?”

“Jormungand?” Erika grabbed her cane and hauled herself up, moving towards the wailing. She got to the doorway and stopped dead.

“Holy shit.”

Jormungand was holding a baby—a little boy with golden hair, only a few years old, by the look of it. Jormungand held him close, crooning a lullaby in his language and swaying back and forth. __  
  
The little boy stopped fussing and cuddled into Jormungand’s chest, falling asleep almost instantly. Jormungand placed him back inside of cot and kissed the top of his head. “There we go,” he murmured. He motioned for Erika to leave the room, and he followed her out.

“That’s . . . is that . . . ?“ Erika began, trailing off.

“My son,” said Jormungand, not looking at Erika as he passed her. “That’s all you need to know. Come—we’ll get you settled.”

 

 

 

 

-       - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

 

Pepper wasn’t answering her phone.

Erika paced Jormungand’s living room, waiting for Pepper’s message to end so she could leave another message. “Hey, Pepper, it’s me again. Is everything okay? I’ve left you, like, a thousand messages. Please call me back.” She hung up the phone and sighed, plopping down on the couch.

Jormungand was in the kitchen with his son—she still didn’t know his name. He came out cradling the little one on his hip.

“Erik.”

Erika looked up. “What?”

Jormungand sat down on the couch next to Erika. “Erik Steven Jorson-Rogers. That’s his name.”

Erika blinked. “You named your kid after me?” She asked quietly. “Jesus, Jor, you’re gonna make me cry.”

“Please don’t,” Jormungand said tiredly. “I couldn’t think of any other names—it was the best fit, anyway.”

Erika sniffed, smiling, then her eyes grew wide. “Erik Jorson . . . Rogers? So he _is_ Steve’s?” She blinked. “ _How?”_

Jormungand scoffed. “How is _my_ father _your_ mother?” he shot back.

“. . . . Fair point.”

 

 

-       - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Tony was strapped to a metal bedframe.

He had no suit, no weapons, and no way out.

Plus he was still trying to figure out what happened to the first mouse.

“Think about it,” Killian goaded him. “Extremis is a _healing_ factor. We take broken people, and we make them whole. That pretty little daughter of yours could walk like a normal person again.”

Killian was lucky Tony didn’t have his suit, or the guy would be a smear on the wall.

 

 

-       - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Tony called her a few days later.

“Oh my god, are you guys okay?” Erika asked immediately. “I saw the thing about the Mandarin being arrested—where’s Pepper? Why haven’t either one of you called me back. For Christ’s sake, I thought you were dead until Pepper played that message! What the Hel is going on?”

_“Everything’s fine,”_ Tony reassured her. “ _I’m fine, and so is Pepper. It’s safe to come home, by the way—everything’s been take care of.”_ A pause, then, _“We’re thinking about going back to New York. Does that sound okay?”_

Tony couldn’t see her, but she nodded anyway. “Yeah, sure—as long as everyone’s fine, I’m fine with that.”

“ _Good. Hey, you mind telling Bean Pole to let me in? I’m getting weird looks out here.”_

Erika blinked. “What? You’re _here?”_ she asked, already heading towards the door and flinging it open hard enough it almost cracked the wall, much to Jormungand’s dismay. Erika hung up her phone before dropping it, gaping.

“You look like _shit_ ,” she said before tackling him. “Oh god, you’re here, you’re safe, I knew you were okay but I was still freaked out and—”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” said Tony, holding her close. “I’m fine—a little stiff from my flight, but other than that, I’m good.”

Erika let out a choked laugh that turned into a sob. “Please never do that again—I had no idea where you were.”

“Hmm, in a little run-down house in Tennessee with a brat named Harley, for the most part,” said Tony.

Erika didn’t even ask.


	4. four

Jormungand declined the invitation back to New York.

“My life is here now,” he said, smiling down fondly at his son.

Tony offered Jormungand his hand. “Well, if you’re ever in the neighborhood, look us up—we’ll be in the big building with the A on the side.”

Jormungand smiled genuinely at Tony for the first time since meeting him, and shook his hand firmly. “Thank you, Anthony Stark.”

“Tony, please,” said Tony.

Jormungand laughed. “Alright—Tony, then. Thank you, Tony.” He held up his son and kissed the blond boy’s head. “Say goodbye, Erik,” Jormungand murmured.

The boy ducked his head shyly, looking at Tony and Erika out of the corner of his eyes.

 

 

 

-       - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

 

 

Harley came home from school to find his entire workspace upgraded, and he smiled as he handled the Potato Gun Mark II. His mom was home from work, but had to leave again in an hour, and his sister was over at her friend’s house.

When he went into the house, there was a knock at the door. His mom answered it, and a woman with blonde and brown hair stood on their porch, wearing a gray sweater and jeans and leaning on a cane. “Hi, are you Mrs. Keener?” the woman asked his mom.

His mom nodded. “Yes—what can I do for you?”

The woman held out her hand. “My name is Erika Stark, and I’d actually like to take this opportunity to talk to you about a job working with Stark Industries.”

She was invited inside and Harley watched her from a distance, wary of her. Was she really offering his mom a job?

They talked for a few minutes, and Harley’s mom was so happy she started crying. She kept saying ‘thank you’ over and over again, and then she beckoned Harley over. “Harley, this is Miss Stark—she’s offering me a better job.”

Harley looked her up and down. “Stark, huh? Any relation to Tony Stark?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Erika smiled at him. “Yeah, he’s my dad.”

Before she left, when Harley’s mom wasn’t looking, Erika beckoned him over and pulled him in a gentle hug. “Thank you for looking out for him,” she said quietly to a stunned Harley, who only nodded. “If you ever need anything at all, give me a call.”

She left the house, and Harley had never seen his mom so happy as they sat together and planned their new future.

 

 

 

-       - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

Bruce sighed tiredly as Tony said something about having a nanny at age 14. “Seriously, Tony, I don’t have the temperament for this,” he muttered. “I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me all this, but . . . .”

“Is he _still_ talking?” Erika asked as she hobbled into the room, a tray with a tea set balanced in her unoccupied hand. “Here, Dr. Banner—I figured you could use it.”

Bruce stood up immediately and moved to take the tray from her, setting it down on the coffee table. “Thanks. You’re right—I needed this.”

Erika laughed.

Tony frowned. “Are you two ganging up on me?” he asked, accusation clear in his voice.

Erika rolled her eyes. “No, Dad, but using The Hulk as your own personal therapist isn’t one of your smarter moves—no offense, Dr. Banner,” she said kindly.

Bruce only smiled and shook his head. “Please call me Bruce—Dr. Banner’s a little formal, don’t you think?”

Erika sighed dramatically. “Fine, _Bruce_ ,” she said, then softer, she said, “It’s good to have you back with us.”

Bruce smiled gently at her. “Honestly, It’s good to be back—I missed you guys.”

Erika bit her lower lip and looked down at the floor, then looked up at Bruce from underneath her eyelashes. “We missed you, too,” she said quietly. Then, louder, she said, “Didn’t we, Daddy?”

Tony grinned. “Of course I missed him! We’re Science Bros!”

Erika snorted out a laugh and Bruce raised an eyebrow.

It was good to know that things were back to normal.

 

 

-       - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Science Bros are reunited, and it feels so good!


	5. five

It wasn’t so bad being so far away, Jormungand decided. It had been three years and he was doing fine on his own, thank you very much. His little Erik had just passed his second birthday. They’d had a quiet night in with cake and ice cream, and Jormungand had given him his present early—they’d gone to the nearest store and his son had selected a blue blanket with Captain America shields all over its fuzzy surface.

Irony could be cruel.

Jormungand was currently in the process of contemplating his son in a small red white and blue uniform when Fenrir appeared in his living room.

“I see that unkempt nest you call hair has made a glorious return,” said Jormungand, not even batting an eye at his brother’s sudden appearance.

Fenrir snorted. “And all yours has fallen out.”

Jormungand smiled ruefully, pushing a hand through his short hair. “It’s good to see you, Fenrir,” he admitted. “Though, am I to assume this isn’t a social call?”

Fenrir jerked his head to the side. “No use avoiding it; I have contacts in Asgard. They’ve told me the Dark Elves invaded the Golden City.”

Jormungand snorted. “Dark Elves? Really?”

“They search for the Ether,” said Fenrir, sighing heavily. “The Allmother is dead.”

Jormungand paled.

“She fell protecting the Ether’s host—a mortal woman our uncle calls ‘Beloved.’”

Jormungand swallowed.

His and his siblings’ time in Asgard was not looked back on fondly—their only solace had been their father and their grandmother. Now Loki was imprisoned and Frigga was dead.

“I’m journeying to Asgard to pay my respects,” Fenrir continued quietly—as quiet as Jormungand had ever heard him.

“I’ll go with you,” said Jormungand tiredly. “Just give me time to find a sitter.”

Fenrir frowned. “Sitter?” Only then did he notice the sleeping toddler on the couch. Fenrir didn’t hear Jormungand’s conversation over the phone—he stared at the sleeping boy, then looked back to his brother.

No matter what any others said, Fenrir wasn’t stupid.

“You had the Captain’s child.”

“Yes, and I refuse to let him set one toe in Asgard—they’d tear him apart,” sighed Jormungand, picking up the boy. “His name is Erik, if you care to know.”

Fenrir said nothing at first, then he offered, “He looks like you.”

Jormungand snorted, giving his brother a genuine smile. “No, he doesn’t, but thank you for making an effort.”

 

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Jormungand had no choice but to leave Erik with Erika, since Erik’s normal sitters were busy. Erika had readily agreed to watch him, and she already had her floor of Stark Tower toddler-proofed by the time they arrived.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it under control,” Erika promised, reaching her free arm out for her nephew.

Jormungand hesitated.

Erika sighed, and her arm dropped. “Seriously, Jor, I can do this. I’ll take good care of him.” She paused, then with a serious look she said, “On my honor, I Erika Maria Stark-Lokadottir, swear to you, Jormungand Lokison that no harm will come to your son, Erik Steve Rogers-Jorson, while he is in my care.” She smiled. “I promise.”

Jormungand set the toddler down and gave him a gentle nudge in Erika’s direction, saying, “ _Go with your aunt Erika,”_ in his native language. _“I’ll be back shortly.”_

Erika smiled down at Erik. “Hey, Buddy. Can you understand me?”

Erik stayed quiet, but nodded shyly after looking back at Jormungand.

Erika smiled. “That’s great. We’re gonna have a lot of fun together, okay?” She held out her hand. “You wanna watch a movie?”

Jormungand watched as his son took a few hesitant steps forward. “Thank you, Erika,” he said as his sister too his son’s hand and led him over to a large couch. “I’ll return shortly.”

Erika nodded. “Oh!” she exclaimed suddenly, rushing off to the other side of the room. She picked up a beautiful arrangement of flowers. “Would this survive the trip? I wanted to do something for her, since I’m on babysitting duty. Can you, like, put it in an inter-dimensional pocket, or something, and make sure they don’t get messed up?”

Jormungand waved his hand and the flowers vanished.

The last words Jormungand heard before leaving were, “Come on, Buddy, nothing says bonding like a Disney movie marathon!”

 

 

 

 

 

-          - - - - - - -- - - - -- --

 

Erik was a sweet kid, Erika decided. He was quiet and polite, and he seemed to be okay with whatever Erika picked for them to do—TV, movies, coloring, Legos—Lord Almighty did this kid love Legos; she showed him the Lego Movie and he _lost his mind_.

Someone came up to her floor and she called out a warning. “Watch out, it’s a Lego Minefield!”

It was just Tony. “Jeez, what blew up?” he asked, looking around the room.

Erika looked around her, amidst a sea of Legos. “Okay, so I overdid it—but look how happy he is!” she cooed, watch Erik as he constructed a multicolored city all around her. She looked up at Tony. “What’s up?”

Tony gestured towards her leg. “How’s the brace?”

Erika beamed and rapped her knuckles against her bad leg, the brace making a metallic noise. “Pretty good—almost no pain today, and I managed to get on the floor!”

“Good. That’s good. Okay. I’ll just . . . . leave now.”

Erika’s smile faltered. “O-oh. Okay.”

Tony never spent much time with Erika as a child, and he always felt guilty about that. After Loki left, they never did father-daughter things—tea parties, dolls, ballerina, that sort of thing. Watching his grown daughter sitting amongst a pile of toys made Tony’s chest ache, and he sighed heavily before picking his way through the mess.

“Fine, but don’t be mad when my buildings come out better-looking. Here, scoot,” he waved his arms, and Erika happily scooted.

 

 

 

-          - - - -- - - - - -- - - -

 

 

Fenrir and Jormungand were technically free from their imprisonment, but that did not make them welcome in Asgard—especially while they were rebuilding after the Dark Elves attack. Hela was waiting for them with a human Sliepnir. They said nothing, all of them heading for Frigga’s garden. In the center stood a magnificent cherry blossom tree, flowers surrounding the base.

“Do you think she would have like it?” Sliepnir asked hesitantly, motioning towards the tree. “I remembered she liked cherries.”

Hela gave her brother a hug. “She would have loved it.”

Jormungand waved his hand and Erika’s flowers appeared among the others. “A gift from our sister on Midgard,” was all he said.

Lady Frigga had been a wonderful queen and grandmother, and they were all going to miss her.

“I hope the bastard that did this rots in Hel,” Fenrir snarled.

Hela snorted. “ _I_ don’t want him.”

“Is she in Valhalla?” asked Sliepnir quietly.

Jormungand nodded. “Fenrir was told she died an honorable death, and she is not in Hela’s realm—she feasts with her ancestors.”

Sliepnir paused, then asked, “Will _we_ ever be allowed to see it?” To see _her_?

Nobody knew how to answer him, so they remained silent, and they stayed there for a long while, keeping vigil over the grave of one of the only ones who had ever accepted them.

“I’m taking Erik to New York,” said Jormungand before they parted ways. “Anthony Stark has extended invitations to each of you, as well.” He looked at his siblings. “I would like Erik to know his family—please consider it.”

 

-          - - - - - - - -- - - - - - -

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, more than ever, Jor wants his boy to know his family.


	6. six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Captain America time! Yay!
> 
> Seriously, The Winter Soldier is a really good movie, I really enjoyed it.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - --

 

“On your left,” Steve called, passing the other jogger for the third time. The runner didn’t look happy.

Later, when he introduced himself to the man—Sam Wilson—and added Sam’s recommendation to his book, he couldn’t help but think of how well Sam would get along with Clint and Tony.

Natasha pulled up in a sleek black car. “Hey boys, do you know where the Smithsonian is? I’m here to pick up a fossil.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Funny,” he deadpanned, saying bye to Sam.

Steve was glad he still had Natasha in his life—she was a good friend.

 

 

 

-          - - - -- - - -- - - -- - - -

 

“Was that your first kiss since 1945?” Natasha asked in the car after the Mall.

Steve gripped the steering wheel tighter. “You know it wasn’t.”

Natasha looked out the window. “Right. Sorry. I forgot.”

Steve wished he could forget. He was tired of thinking about pale skin and long, dark hair, and a razor sharp smile that made Steve’s heart race.

 

 

-          - - - -  - - - - - -

 

 

Steve was going after Bucky and Sam was going with him.

When they finally found Steve’s friend, it wasn’t pretty. Words were said, blood was spilled, but it ended with Bucky sobbing in Steve’s arms with Sam watching quietly.

 

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

They needed a safe haven—somewhere Bucky could recuperate, adjust to his new freedom.

Okay, so maybe going back to Manhattan wasn’t Steve’s best plan, but with S.H.I.E.L.D. gone there were so few people Steve could trust.

Natasha met back up with them on the way and Steve introduced her to Bucky, who was still skittish. On the way to New York, he warmed up to her, though only slightly—he recognized another broken soul when he saw one.

Tony welcomed them back—of course he did; he’d been torn apart when the Avengers disbanded (though he’d never admit it).

If Steve had known who else was staying there, though, he just might have stayed away.

 

 

 

 

 

-           - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

 

Erika was beyond excited that the Avengers were coming back together. She’d missed them, and being back in New York felt like coming home, in a way.

She was just . . . . nervous.

Jormungand had been in Iceland for almost three years now, and he had his own mini Steve he was taking care of—how would big Steve react to the news that he was a daddy?

Steve and Natasha arrived at the Tower an hour before Erika’s siblings were due to arrive, and they weren’t alone—Steve had made new friends in Washington, apparently.

“Hi,” Erika greeted the newcomers. “I’m Erika.” She shook hands with the tall black guy, who introduced himself as Sam Wilson. When she reached out for the other guy’s hand, he flinched.

“Uh, Erika, this is Bucky,” Said Steve quickly, stepping up next to the brunet. “Bucky, this is Tony Stark’s daughter; remember I told you about her?”

Bucky swallowed and gave Erika a tight ‘ma’am’ before scurrying off to his assigned room.

“O-kayyy,” said Erika, watching Bucky leave. She looked back at Steve. “Right. Okay. Not sure this is something you wanna hear right after you just got here but . . . . You’re not the only ones moving back in.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I kinda figured as much when I met up with Clint and Bruce at the airport.”

Erika bit her bottom lip. “That’s . . . . not exactly what I mean.” Before she could clarify any more, a flash of green light left them momentarily blinded. When the spots cleared from her vision, Erika’s face lit up. “Hey! Wow, you guys are a little early, actually,” she said, moving quickly to stand in front of the group of four (five if you count Erik) now standing in Stark Tower’s lobby. “So, your rooms are all the same, Sliepnir, I’ve got a room picked out for you, and you and I can go shopping later for normal clothes. Oh, and before I forget, I gotta know—Hela, who’s watching your realm?”

The dark-haired woman smiled. “My army’s general is a competent leader. He’ll look after things while I’m on holiday.”

Erika nodded. “Right. Yes. Good.” She turned back to Steve and gave him a nervous smile. “This is the ‘other people’ I was talking about . . . . . my siblings are gonna be staying here for a while, so . . . . yeah.”

Hela gave Steve a tight smile. “Always a pleasure, Captain,” she said cooly, sauntering past Steve. Fenrir and Sliepnir followed her, and neither one of them looked happy to see Steve—Sliepnir was outright glaring, though Steve couldn’t even really remember meeting him, let alone do something that warranted that nasty of a glare.

A small huff made him turn back around to face a man shorter than him with short black hair and sharp cheekbones—Jormungand, though not how Steve remembered him.

“I’ll, um, leave you two alone,” Erika muttered, wandering away and pulling a confused Sam with her saying, “Steve can explain later.”

“Ignore them, please,” said Jormungand after a moment, referring to the others. “If I can let go of my anger at you, so can they.”

“They’re mad at me?” A beat, then. “Wait, you’re mad at me? Wait, no, nevermind, I know why you’re angry at me.”

Jormungand smiled. “ _Was_ angry—past tense. I came to realize you were right—I would have burned the world for you. That’s . . . . not healthy. It’s fine, though.” He shifted, and Steve saw a small boy with blond hair peek out from behind Jormungand’s legs. “I found something else to live for. Steven, this is Erik. _Erik, koma segja halló við föður þinn,”_ said Jormungand, picking up the boy, and Steve understood at least one word in that.

_“Halló, faðir,”_ The boy said in a small voice, peering up at Steve with bright blue eyes.

 

Steve swallowed. “Why does he look like me?”

Jormungand ‘tsk’d. “Come now, don’t play dumb. Surely you’re familiar with genetics.”

“But you’re—”

“Not human,” Jormungand reminded him. “My body isn’t held by standard male restrictions.” Jormungand let out a small huff of air. “Apologies; if I’d known you were coming back, I would not have subjected you to this.” _I would not have subjected myself to this_ was left unsaid. “The boy and I will keep our distance.”

Steve frowned. “What? Why?”

It was Jormungand’s turn to frown. “I’m sorry, I just assumed—”

“Yeah, well you assumed wrong. I have a son, and a responsibility to be there for him when he needs me. I’m not saying you haven’t been a good parent,” he said quickly at Jormungand’s cold look. “I’m just saying . . . . I’d like to help.”

Jormungand was speechless for a moment. He gave Steve the most heartfelt gaze Steve had ever seen. “I’ve missed you,” he said quietly.

Steve swallowed. “Yeah,” was all he could say, because he didn’t think he was ready to say _I missed you, too._


	7. seven

Steve found Sam later, and the Falcon demanded an explanation to why Erika Stark had practically shoved him out of the room when _four people and a toddler just appeared in the living room._

Steve sighed. “How much do you know about Loki?” he asked.

Sam frowned. “Crazy alien who invaded Manhattan? Not much. Is he that actual Norse God of Mischief and Lies, or is that just a shtick?”

Steve sighed again. “No, he’s the actual god of Mischief. He was staying in Stark Tower a few years back, but he was taken back to Asgard—the land he and his brother are from. So, you know Loki is the god of Lies. What else do you know?”

“Again, not much,” Sam admitted. “Although, I read something about a horse on Wikipedia . . . .”

_Oh, boy_. “Okay, I should probably start from the beginning. Everything started not long after the Manhattan Invasion . . . .”

 

 

-          - - - - - - - -  - - - - - - - - - -

 

Steven’s dark-skinned friend kept staring at Jormungand, and it was starting to unnerve him. “What?” He finally snapped one morning over breakfast.

“Can you really turn into a giant snake?” The man asked him without preamble.

Everyone froze.

“Sam,” Steve hissed. “Not the best timing.”

Jormungand raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I can, now will you please stop staring at me like I’m a roast pig at a Luau?”

Clint snorted and Steve shot him a look.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Bucky hadn’t meant to interrupt them. He’d been looking for Steve, and instead he found a woman and a little boy playing with Legos.

A little boy who was the spitting image of Steve.

The woman looked up and smiled hesitantly, giving him a half-wave before going back to building Legos. The little boy looked up at him and asked in Icelandic, “ _Do you want to play?”_

Bucky started. “ _No, thanks,”_ he replied hoarsely, wondering who the hell this kid was and _why he looked like his best friend_. Was this woman his mother? Had Steve slept with her?

“I’m not his mom, if that’s what you’re thinking” said the woman—Erika, Bucky remembered. “I’m his aunt. The really tall pale guy with cheekbones you could cut glass with is his mom. Er, dad, I mean,” she added quickly.

_He looks like Steve._

“Yeah, I know,” said Erika, and Bucky realized he’d said that out loud. “Ask Steve about it, if you want to know—it’s not my story to tell.”

Bucky left the room without another word.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

“Why is there a kid that looks like you?” were the first words out of Bucky’s mouth when Steve saw him again.

Steve groaned. Right. There was someone else he owed an explanation to. “What do you know about the attack on Manhattan?”

Several minutes and a long, grueling explanation later, Bucky sat there, blinking. Finally, he said something.

“You’re shitting me.”

“Actually, he’s not.”

Bucky was out of the chair and had Sam pinned to the wall in the blink of an eye. He dropped Sam once he realized what he’d done. _“Don’t sneak up on me,”_ he hissed, slinking back to his chair.

Sam coughed and rubbed his neck. “Sorry, Man,” he wheezed. “Forgot.”

Steve had shot up to get Bucky to let go, but relaxed when his friend did that on his own. “I forget, too,” he offered—the only difference was he was strong enough to hold the brunet off.

Bucky held up a hand. “Sorry, Sam. So, Steve, again, I say you’re pullin’ my leg.”

Steve shook his head. “Tellin’ God’s honest truth,” he said. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Buck. Hell, I doubt I could make this up.”

“I could,” Sam supplied. “Mom always said I had a great imagination.”

Bucky snorted. “Really?”

Sam just gave Bucky a shit-eating grin.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Thor came back not long after everyone had settled, and he looked miserable.

“Hey, Uncle Thor,” Erika greeted, looking up from the papers spread out on the table in front of her. “Sorry about your mom,” she offered.

“My Thanks, Erika,” said Thor wearily. “May I sit?”

Erika kicked out the nearest chair. “Sure. Did you manage to get the Ether back safe?”

Thor nodded. “At a great cost, but the Ether is safe. Erika, I have disturbing news, and I wish to tell everyone in residence. Please gather them.”

Erika blinked. “Um, sure. J.A.R.V.I.S, please assemble the Avengers and my siblings. Tell them Thor’s back and he has stuff to tell us.”

_“Of course, Miss Stark. Welcome back, Master Odinson,”_ the AI sounded.

Roughly ten minutes later Tony, Bruce, Steve, Clint and Natasha were gathered, as were Jormungand, Fenrir, Sliepnir and Hela, little Erik in Jormungand’s arms.

“Who is this little one?” Thor asked, peering curiously at the boy.

“My son,” was all Jormungand said. “J.A.R.V.I.S said you had news?”

“Yeah, Point Break, what’s up?” asked Tony. “Nice seeing you again, by the way.” Everyone knew what he wanted to ask the Thunder god—how was Loki? He held his tongue, though, to hear Thor’s news.

Thor swallowed, then looked at his nephews and Niece still standing. He looked at Tony. “You may want to sit before I deliver my news,” he said.

Tony waved him off. “Nah, I’m good—let’s hear it.”

“Very well.” A deep breath. “Loki is dead.”

Nobody said anything.

“That’s not funny, Thor,” said Tony at last, his face ashen.

“Twas not meant in jest. I told Erika the Ether’s return and protection came at a great cost, and I did not lie—the Ether is safe at the cost at my mother and brother’s life.”

Tony sat down heavily and swallowed. “He’s dead? Loki’s dead?” he choked out.

Thor nodded, then looked at Erika, who was just as pale as Tony. She looked ready to break out into sobs at any moment. “Excuse me,” she said weakly, struggling to her feet and grabbing her cane before hobbling out of the room. Tony went after her.

Tony found her in her room, sitting on her bed and crying harder than he’d ever seen her cry. “Why?” she choked out. “Why does this keep happening?”

Tony sat down beside her and gathered her into his arms.

“It’s not fair,” she sobbed. “Why did he have to die?”

He didn’t have an answer for her, so he just held her why she cried, and later, when everyone was asleep, he went down to his lab and got mind-numbing drunk for the first time since Erika’s kidnapping.

 

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Jormungand was numb.

Loki was dead. His father was dead, and he’d died for the same reason his grandmother had died—protecting Thor’s precious pet mortal.

After Erika had excused herself, the rest of them had gone to their rooms to mourn in private.

“I can watch him,” Steve had offered, and Jormungand nodded dumbly before handing him Erik and disappearing to his room.

Now, hours later, he sat in the middle of a room torn apart and repaired and torn apart again, and he didn’t have the energy to repair everything again, so he simply curled up on the floor and willed the blackness to consume him.

 

 

-           - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Steve watched Jormungand disappear and held Erik closer.

“Faðir, hvers vegna er mamma uppnámi?” Erik asked him, and he didn’t know what the toddler was saying. He shook his head slightly, unable to answer.

Thor was watching them. “Does he not have the Allspeak?”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t know. I know he understands me, but I’ve never heard him speak anything else. I don’t think Jormungand ever taught him English.”

“It should not matter if he was ‘taught,’ the Allspeak should translate any language for him and have his words translated in return.”

“Hvers vegna er Momma uppnámi?” Erik repeated.

“Kiddo, I have no idea what you’re saying?” said Steve tiredly. “J.A.R.V.I.S, could you translate?”

_“Of course, Master Rogers. Master Jorson wishes to inquire as to why Master Lokison was upset.”_

Steve sighed. “Of course,” he muttered. “It’s okay, Buddy, he’s fine, he just found out something that made him upset—your grandfather passed away,” Steve told the toddler, knowing he’d be understood.

Erik’s bottom lip quivered. “Afi minn er dáinn?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, Little One,” said Thor. “He died a hero’s death, and he feasts in the halls of Valhalla.”

Erik sniffed, then nodded once. He fell asleep shortly after that.

 “Might I ask why my nephew’s son looks like you, Steven?” Thor asked Steve quietly, but Steve had a feeling the God already knew the answer, and he said as much.

Thor nodded. “Aye, I had my suspicions. It is uncommon for mortal males to bear children, but Jormungand is no mere mortal. He is a shapeshifter like my brother, and he can change parts of his body at will, allowing the growth of a babe if he so wished.”

Steve shook his head. “So, what, he’d been planning it?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know. You’ll have to ask my nephew.”

 

 

-          - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - -- -

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a line back in one of the chapters of Skuldalið that was my attempt at foreshadowing Erik’s birth. It was in Icelandic, so it would be easily missed. I don’t remember which one it was, but it was the one where everyone got drunk and played poker, right before Jor had his meltdown. The line roughly translates to “I gave myself a uterus,” followed by Fenrir swearing at him ;)


	8. eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fight Scene! I suck at these, so bear with me.
> 
> Angry Jormungand was fun to write. (Note to all—do not insult Loki in front of him. He will fuck your shit up).

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - -

 

 

Word that the Avengers had regrouped spread like wildfire, especially among the ‘super villains’ of the city. Soon, they were facing attack after attack, barely getting a moment to rest between attacks. They held up, though, until a blonde woman named Amora and her mountain of a bodyguard called Skurge challenged them with something they hadn’t dealt with before—magic.

“Aww are the poor mortals getting tired?” she mocked, firing spell after spell at Steve and Tony while the Hulk tussled with Skurge. Clint and Natasha were dealing with some kind of animals Amora had unleashed upon them—almost wolflike in appearance, but closer in movement to a cat. Thor was trying to contain what was called a Bilgesnipe—whatever it was, it was mean and ugly, and it was _mad_.

Amora laughed again as a blast of her magic knocked the great Captain America off his feet, but her laughter was short-lived when she was hit in the back with someone else’s magic, and she turned, snarling, to face this new opponent. Her smile returned. “How cute. Loki’s brats.”

There stood Jormungand, Fenrir, and Hela in full Asgardian armor, weapons at the ready. “Be gone with you, Witch,” Fenrir spat angrily.

Amora ‘hmm’d and flicked her wrist, wrapping Tony and Steve in tendrils of pure energy and trapping them. “Let’s see—a dead girl, a mutt, and a snake, all babes practically fresh from the cradle. Ooh, I’m so scared.”

Fenrir took a fighting stance, sword at the ready, while Jormungand and Hela’s hands lit up with magic, their eyes glowing. “You should be,” said Hela. “Defeating an old hag like you should be a walk in the park.”

Amora snarled. “How DARE you!” she spat, hurling a curse at Hela, who deflected it.

Jormungand snorted. “Is that the best you’ve got?” he taunted, and Amore threw a curse at him, which he also deflected. His and Hela’s entire beings lit up, then they each laid a finger on Fenrir, who was enveloped by their glow. “Get her,” said Jormungand.

Fenrir’s grin was feral. “With pleasure,” he said, and then he surged forward, sword raised. Amora threw curse after curse at him, but they never made it past the glow that surrounded him. He swung at her, and she just managed to get out of the way. “SKURGE!” she shrieked. “SKURGE, I NEED YOU!” She just barely dodged Fenrir’s blade again and it sliced off a piece of her hair.

The hulking Asgardian with an axe was at her side at an instant, the Hulk temporarily disposed of as he dealt with his own Bilgesnipe. Skurge swung his axe and Fenrir barely got his sword up in time to stop the axe from slicing him in half. “By the Gods, this fucker is strong,” he grunted, doing his best not to get sliced OR crushed.

Hela and Amora were trading curses while Jormungand worked to free Iron Man and Captain America. His magic tore through Amora’s leaving the tendrils weak enough for the heroes to escape. Before Steve could say anything, Jormungand took out a knife and threw it at him—or past him, actually, and it embedded itself in the cat like wolf creature that had come barreling towards Steve. “Looks like your sister had Amora under control—mind helping up with pest control?” Clint shouted

Jormungand bowed, and closed his eyes. “Step back, please,” he said, and then green fire engulfed his feet and spread rapidly, passing harmlessly over the Avengers but burning the wolves to ash, their howls echoing as they were reduced to cinders.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” They heard, and turned to see Fenrir dropping his sword and changing to his wolf form, which towered over Skurge, and then they watched as the Mighty Skurge was reduced to a chew toy.

A cry was hear from up above and Hela fell from the sky, her glamour gone and the dead half of her smoking slightly. She surged to her feet, murder in her eyes, and she hurled another curse at Amora, who deflected it. Amora threw more curses at Steve and Tony, still focusing mainly on the rival sorceress. Everyone was so engaged in the fight, nobody saw the wicked blade of pure energy shooting straight for Steve.

Well, almost nobody.

“ ** _MOVE!”_**

In the blink of an eye Steve flew back as if yanked backwards on a fishing hook, and Jormungand was standing where Steve stood moments ago, impaled by a blade formed of Amora’s magic.

Time seemed to slow down and Steve got to his feet, horrified. He quickly blocked another attack with his shield, making his way towards Jormungand, who had sank to his knees and was clutching his left hand against his stomach, his right hand flat on the ground.

There was so much blood . . . . .

“Jor . . . .” Steve said quietly, kneeling beside the fallen man.

“You’re weak, just like your father,” mocked Amora. “How is he, by the way? Oh, that’s right—dead!” she cackled.

Steve saw Jormungand’s look of pain turn to a look of fury, and seconds later tendrils of magic caught Amora by the ankle and yanked her down, dragging her across the ground towards the fallen serpent.

“ _Ert þú ekki þora að tala um föður okkar eins og þessi, þið tveir-bita hóra! Þú vildi vera heppinn ef hann lét þér skína hilluna með tungunni_!” Jormungand hissed, surging to his feet. A surge of electric energy passed through the tendrils to Amora and she shrieked. “ _Hann var mikill maður, meira virði en þú getur ímyndað þér_!” Jormungand continued.  “ _Þegar ég er búin með þig, munt þú vera heppin að alltaf ganga aftur_!” Another shock before she was pulled forward more, then flung across the ground, landing so hard she left a crater. The magic wrapped hold of her again, smashing her against the ground again and again, until Amora was bloodied and broken.

Jormungand was gearing up for another bout of ‘smash the asgardian bitch into the pavement” when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Jormungand, that’s enough. You proved your point, now let her be.”

Jormungand blinked and the blood red fog cleared from his mind. Steven. That was Steven talking to him. He blinked again.

“Come on, Jor, this is torture. She’s had enough. Besides, you need a doctor.”

Jormungand still shook with rage, but he released the bitch, leaving her in a bloody heap on the ground. “ _Hún mun lifa_ ,” Jormungand spat, glaring at her, and his mask of fury shifted back to one of pain.

Behind them, a wolf Fenrir trotted up to them and dropped a thoroughly chewed up Skurge by their feet.

“Uh, good boy?” said Tony, lifting his face plate.

Fenrir growled, and the meaning was clear— _I am not a dog._

“Hey, what about those snipe things?” asked Clint.

They didn’t have to worry about the Bilgesnipes—Thor and the Hulk had it covered.

“You okay, Bean Pole?” Tony asked a clearly in pain Jormungand.

_“Wha doou hugsa_?” Jormungand hissed, and his meaning was crystal clear—‘do I look okay to you?’

“Okay, so medical for the serpent and anyone else that needs it, and then who’s up for calling it a week? Because honestly, after the week we just had, I could sleep for a month. Actually, that’s not a bad idea. J.A.R.V.I.S, clear my schedule for the next month,” he said into his comm, the faceplate snapping back into place.

Steve didn’t even pay any attention to Tony—his focus was on Jormungand, who had fallen to his knees again. “Hey, you gotta stay with me. Jormungand, okay? There are doctors back at the Tower, they’ll patch you up.” That he and his siblings were not human was no secret, and all of Stark Towar’s medical staff knew by now how to treat them.

“We need to get them a medic, too, I guess” said Clint, turning to look at Amora and Skurge, but they were gone. “Uh, where did they go?”

“Teleported,” Jormungand growled, his accent incredibly thick. “I told you they would live.” He was still trying to contain his anger and mask his pain, and it showed.

“Okay, so we need to get you back to the Tower,” said Steve gentle but firm. “Can you walk?”

Jormungand took several deep breaths through his nose before slowly climbing back to his feet. He swayed slightly, blinking rapidly and holding his stomach tighter. “I think . . . . I need to lie down now.” And with that, he passed out.

The only reason his head didn’t crack against pavement was because Steve was there to catch him.

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

 

Erika and Sliepnir were waiting for them when they got back, along with Sam and Bucky. “Man, you guys kicked ass!” said Sam. “How do I sign up for this Avenger gig, cuz that was awesome!”

Bucky snorted. “You were in the last fight,” he reminded Sam. They both had been in the previous fight, but due to the current battle’s magic nature, they’d sat out.

“Yeah, But I mean official Avenger! This Falcon wants to kick some ass!”

“Kicking ass is overrated,” Tony groaned, free from his suit. “I’m going to go sleep for a month now.”

“Who needs healing?” asked Sliepnir? “I’ve been practicing!”

The others finally noticed a blood soaked Steve carrying a frighteningly pale Jormungand.

“Uhhh, I’m not good enough to help him,” said Sliepnir, suddenly feelings sick while looking at his bloodied brother.

“Nobody is,” said a tired Hela. “I can partially heal him, but the wound will still require stitches—Jormungand is easily the most powerful of us, and he’s obviously in no shape to heal himself.”

Steve and Hela took Jormungand to the medical facilities in the Tower, and everyone else’s minor injuries were healed by Sliepnir.

Fenrir blanched. “I’d rather have Erika do it,” he admitted, and Erika had to come clean about how she sold her magic to S.H.I.E.L.D for her brothers’ freedom.

Fenrir blinked. “You . . . . gave up your magic. For us?” he asked quietly (Erika had never heard him so quiet).

Erika gave him a ‘duh’ look. “Of course I did. You guys are the only family I’ve got left, besides Tony. And the rest of the Avengers, too, kind of.” She gave her brother a smile. “You’re my Ohana.”

Fenrir rolled his eyes, and the Moment was over.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Jormungand woke slowly, becoming aware of his surroundings—hospital room, laying in a bed, hooked up to machines. He blinked and shook his head slightly.

Or he tried to, anyway.

Jormungand frowned and looked to his left, where one of Steven’s new friends sat, just watching him. Jormungand didn’t remember which one he was—whichever one the dark-skinned one was.

Something was itching at the back of Jormungand’s head—a thought just out of his reach.

“ _I feel like I should be in a great deal of pain,”_ Jormungand admitted.

Steve’s friend frowned.

“ _That’s the morphine_ ,” said a man on his right—this one had light skin and brown hair. _“It worked real good back in the Forties, and now it’s even more effective.”_

Jormungand blinked lazily. “ _Morphine? Is that what’s making me feel so . . . . .”_

_“Weightless?”_ the second man supplied.

Jormungand nodded slowly.

_“You are one tough Son of a Bitch, you know that? They gave you enough to knock Thor on his ass, so I imagine you feel pretty good right now._ ”

Jormungand couldn’t help the silly grin that spread across his face. _“I feel wonderful,”_ he said, actually letting out a small giggle. His giggles got worse at the look the dark-skinned man gave him.

“Uh, you mind translating?” the dark-skinned man asked the brunet man, and Jormungand suddenly remembered that the dark-skinned man was Sam Wilson, and the brunet was Bucky Barnes.

_“Am I not speaking English?”_ Jormungand asked.

“ _No_ ,” Bucky replied. “ _Your language is a dead ringer for modern Icelandic, though, so I’ve got no problem understanding you.”_

Jormungand blinked. _“Oh_.” He hadn’t realized he wasn’t speaking English.

That something at the back of his brain clicked and his mind suddenly cleared.

_“Where’s Erik?”_

_“The kid?”_ Bucky asked, and Jormungand nodded. “ _He’s fine—he’s with his aunt_.”

_“And Steven?”_

“Steve’s fine, if you’re wondering” Sam reassured him. “A little bloody, a little bruised, but fine—you saved him from a seriously nasty wound.”

“Yeah, and he put _himself_ in the line of fire!”Bucky practically snarled.

Both Jormungand and Sam flinched. “What the hell, Man?” Sam asked, and Bucky visibly calmed.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Still a dumb move—Steve almost lost you,” he chided Jormungand.

Jormungand frowned. “ _Why would he ca—”_

_“Don’t you DARE ask ‘why would he care?’ because if you do I will KILL you, Asgardian god or not!”_  Bucky snarled in Icelandic, surging to his feet. “ _That man has been by your bedside for the last three days, only leaving when he absolutely needed to! He didn’t eat, he hardly slept—Sam and I just barely convinced him you’d be okay under our watch! Don’t you dare think for a MINUTE he doesn’t care!”_

“Whoa, okay, cool it, Buck,” said Sam, slowly getting to his feet and raising his hands in a ‘we’re all cool here’ gesture. “It’s all good, you said it yourself—they pumped him with enough drugs to knock him out this long. The last he saw of Steve, the man couldn’t even say ‘I missed you, too,’ remember?” And Jormungand’s head was too fuzzy to question how Sam knew that.

An image of Bucky as a bristling cat came to Jormungand’s mind, and of Sam calming the cat. Bucky flopped back in his chair, still glaring at Jormungand, but he was done yelling—for the moment.

Jormungand fell back it a drug-induced sleep while thinking _he still cares._

 

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are the translations using Google Translate, for anyone not willing to look it up themselves.
> 
>  
> 
> Ert þú ekki þora að tala um föður okkar eins og þessi, þið tveir-bita hóra! Þú vildi vera heppinn ef hann lét þér skína hilluna með tungunni—Don’t you dare talk about our father like that, you two-bit whore! You would be lucky if he let you shine his boots with your tongue!
> 
> Hann var mikill maður, meira virði en þú getur ímyndað þér!— He was a great man, worth more than you can imagine!
> 
> Þegar ég er búin með þig, munt þú vera heppin að alltaf ganga aftur! — When I'm done with you, you'll be lucky to ever walk again!
> 
> Hún mun lifa—she will live


	9. nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, here we go! These particular versions of Jormungand, Fenrir, Sliepnir and hela belong to me, as do Erika and Erik. Steve, Sam, Bucky, and all the other Avengers and Marvel characters belong to—who else—Marvel (and Disney, I guess). I’m not making any money off this, I’m just having fun borrowing Marvel’s characters for a while. I promise I’ll give them back when I’m done.
> 
> So without further ado, here ya go—chapter 9 of Still Not Easy
> 
> A quick note—Aside from J.A.R.V.I.S’s dialogue, if dialogue is in English, but italicized, that means they’re speaking Icelandic, but the person whose point of view it is understands it. So for example, if it’s in Bucky or Erika’s point of view, it’s already translated, but if it’s from Steve or Tony’s point of view, the translation will be at the end of the chapter.

 

-          **\- - - - - - - - - - - -- -**

Steve came back to Jormungand’s hospital room a few hours after Jormungand’s verbal whipping from Bucky.

“Thought we told you we got this?” Sam said when Steve came back.

“Couldn’t sleep,” was all Steve said, pulling up Bucky’s vacant chair. Speaking of Bucky . . . “Where’d Bucky go? I thought you were both watching him.”

“I have no idea,” said Sam honestly. “Your man here riled him up pretty good, and he left right after he chewed his ass out for getting impaled in the first place, and before you even open your mouth, don’t bother with the ‘he’s not my man,’ cuz we both know that’s bullshit.”

Steve huffed. “Am I that obvious?” he asked, smiling ruefully.

“Man, you’ve been looking like someone took away your favorite toy for the last three days—it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to tell you still got it _bad_.”

Steve shook his head but said nothing, looking at a sleeping Jormungand—his short hair was matted and his skin looked pale and waxy, the sharper cheekbones of his new body reminding Steve of Angelina Jolie in the new Sleeping Beauty movie.

“He looks different.”

Steve didn’t realize he’d spoken out loud until Sam gave him a look that said ‘and your point is?’ He cleared his throat. “Jormungand’s a natural shape shifter, like I told you and Bucky—the body he had when I met him wasn’t so . . . pale. The face was a little softer, especially the cheekbones. His hair was down to his thighs when it was loose, but he usually wore it in this ponytail, with a gold fastener around the base. He also used to have an earring of a snake biting its tail.”

“Why did he change?”

“Well, according to his newest passport and ID, his name is Enginn Jorson, and he is from Reykjavk, Iceland. I’m gonna take a wild guess and say he didn’t want to be found.”

“So what changed? Why isn’t he still in Iceland?”

Steve sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I don’t know, Sam, I haven’t really talked to him since he got here.”

“Uh-huh,” said Sam. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“Don’t start,” Steve warned. “Please, just . . . . Drop it.”

And he did.

For now.

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

Jormungand woke up two days later, still high as a kite. “ _Góðan daginn, elskan_ ,” he said sleepily, giving Steve a lazy smile, and Bucky choked on his coffee.

Steve gave Jormungand a hesitant smile and said, “Morning,” before giving Bucky a weird look. “What?”

“Nothing,” Bucky wheezed, still fighting for air. “Not a damn thing.”

Steve didn’t believe him, but he let it go. “How are you feeling?” he asked Jormungand, whose smile grew.

“ _Mér finnst ótrúlegt! Ég virkilega líkar hvað ég er dælt fullt af! Það er engin sársauki á öllum_!” he exclaimed, his voice slightly slurred.

Steve smiled again and shook his head. “J.A.R.V.I.S, translate, please?” he asked the AI.

_“Of course, Master Rogers. Master Lokison is expressing his enjoyment of his medication and lack of pain.”_

“Thanks, J.A.R.V.I.S.”

“ _My pleasure, Master Rogers. Shall I continue direct translations from this point on?”_

“That would be wonderful, thank you, J.A.R.V.I.S,” said Steve, and to Jormungand he said, “So, Bruce said you should be out of the hospital in a few weeks and back in your own bed. Erik misses you and wants to know when you’re ‘coming home,’ and Erika’s taking really good care of him. I think she’d make a good mother, she really adores Erik.

_“Hún getur fengið eigin hennar, Erik er minn,”_ said Jormungand.

_“I believe the direct translation is ‘she can get her own, Erik is mine_ ,’” said J.A.R.V.I.S, and Steve couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him.

_“Þú ert góður faðir, svo langt,”_ said Jormungand, giving him a beautiful smile.

‘ _You’re a good father, so far.’_

That made Steve’s face flush. “Um, thanks, I guess. I haven’t really spent that much time with him. I was thinking . . . . maybe when you’re better . . . . . we could all do something together?”

Jormungand’s smile faltered slightly and he hesitated. “ _Ég held að hann myndi vilja að_ ,” he said quietly, and J.A.R.V.I.S translated to ‘ _I think he would like that_ ,’ and Jormungand didn’t add ‘I would, too,’ because he was so high on morphine (and had been for the last five days) that he didn’t remember Bucky telling him how much Steve still cared.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - --  -- - -

-           

 

Erika was in and out of the hospital room frequently, little Erik in tow. Jormungand was sleeping for most of their visits, but they stayed anyway.

“He’s learning English,” Erika told a sleeping Jormungand excitedly. “He’s working on his reading and writing, and translating. I think Mom’s side of your gene pool made him super smart for his age—I didn’t know he could already read and write Icelandic!” She smiled proudly at the toddler in her lap, who smiled right back. “Momma would be real proud of you if he were awake,” she told the toddler quietly. “He’s gonna be proud once he wakes up.

“ _English is hard,”_ said Erik in Icelandic, and Erika laughed a little.

“Yeah, our language can be a pain in the butt,” she agreed.

“ _I wish I knew EVERY language, like Momma . . . .”_

Erika hmm’d in agreement. “The Allspeak IS a handy little trick—I wonder why you didn’t get it . . . Well, Allspeak or not, it’s good that you’re learning. This way, you can talk directly to your Papa, with nobody else having to translate for him. You wanna practice with the book we brought and read to your Momma?” she asked the toddler, who nodded. “Okay.” She pulled out a book of poems from the bag she’d brought with her— _Where the Sidewalk Ends_ by Shel Silverstein.

Erik squirmed around in Erika’s lap, getting comfortable, and Erika gave him the book. “Why don’t you pick one?” she asked, and Erik gave a mumbled ‘kay,’ before searching through the pages, finally stopping on one.

Erik studied the page before reading in halting English, “Lazy . . . lazy . . lazy, lazy, lazy Jane . . .she wants . . a drink of water . . . . .so she waits . . . . . . and waits, and waits, and waits, and waits for it to . . . . rain.”  He looked up at Erika, and she smiled and nodded encouragingly, so he flipped to another page. He got to ‘Recipe or a Hippopotamus sandwich’ and giggled at the picture, a hippo with a piece of bread tied to his back and belly. Once his giggles subsided, he studied the poem, and began, “A hy-ppo . . . hippo . . . sand-witch is easy to make . . . . .All you do is simply take . . one slice of bread . . . .one slice of  . . . cake? . . . . some may-yo-nnaise, one onion right, one hippo . . . . hippo . . . . um .  . . .”

“Sound it out,” Erika reminded him.

“ . . . . Hip-po-pot-a-mus,” Erik stuttered.

“See, there you go!”

Erik bit his lower lip and continued with the poem.

“One hip-po-pot-a-mus, one . . . . piece of string, a dash of . . . pepper . .. . . that . . . ought . . . to do it. And now comes . . . . the problem . . . . biting into it.”

Erika gave him a squeeze from behind. “Good job, Buddy!”

Erik leaned back into her touch, thumbing through the book for another poem.

 

-          - -- - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Jormungand’s natural healing meant he was out of the hospital a week after his conversation with Steve, with the wound in his stomach already scabbed over. He stayed in his bed for a few extra days (because they cut him off the morphine and he suddenly found himself in a great deal of pain), only moving when absolutely necessary.

Erik insisted on sitting on the floor by his bed with his Legos, promising to not leave them scattered in case Jormungand had to use the bathroom (since that was the only reason he was getting up—Hela had been bringing him food).

Hela, Sliepnir, and Fenrir offered what energy they could to heal their brother, and their borrowed energies sped up his recovery time even more. He was walking two weeks after his injury with very little pain, and he was nearly back to normal (he was temporarily banned from caffeine, and that made him pout for a little bit, but he got over it).

Something everyone found out soon after Jormungand’s pain treatment stopped was that he remembered _nothing_ from the days he’d been on the morphine drip. He vaguely remembered bits and pieces—waking up a few times with someone sitting beside him. He didn’t remember if he’d talked to them, though, or what was said.

That being said, it was a complete surprise when Steve asked if he and Erik would like to have ‘a day out on the town.’ “Erik really wants to see that new dragon movie,” he’d said, and that was how Jormungand ended up in a dark theater with sticky floors and uncomfortable seats, with Steve to his right and Erik to his left, watching a cartoon about a young man that rides dragons.

“ _I want to ride a dragon!”_   Erik cried excitedly after the movie.

“ _It’s harder than it looks,”_ he told Erik. To Steve, he said, “I haven’t seen any dragons in _ages_! I miss them—they’re actually quite civil, if you get to know them.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Dragons are real?” he asked skeptically.

Jormungand pointed to himself, saying “Giant serpent,” which earned him a “Touché,” from Steve.

_“Momma, can we go to Asgard and see a dragon?”_ Erik asked.

_“I’ve told you, Little One, Asgard is no place for you,”_ Jormungand responded easily, and Erik pouted. _“Don’t pout, it’s not as cute as you think,”_ he chided, and Erik’s pout melted.

_“Okay,”_ said the little boy, admitting defeat. “ _Can we get food now? I’m hungry.”_

Jormungand turned to Steve. “Is it alright if we get food? Erik is hungry.”

Steve pretended to think. “I don’t know . . . . .” He trailed off, rubbing his chin.

Erik latched onto Steve. “ _Please, Papa? Please, Please, Please?”_

‘Please’ was one of the only words in Icelandic Steve knew, and he gave a deep, theatrical sigh and saying, “Oh, I suppose we could find _something_ to eat, since we’re already out.”

_“Thank you, Papa!”_ said Erik, and Steve ruffled the kid’s hair, which made Erik laugh and duck away behind Jormungand’s legs.

 

 

 

-          - - - - -- - - - - - - -- - --

 

 

Erik had loved the movie, and he wanted everything and anything to do with it—and now that Stark Tower’s resident Billionaire and his daughter weren’t strangers anymore, he had no problems asking for it, since there was a good chance he would get it.

What Erik wanted, though, that nobody could give him, was his own dragon.

“ _I wish I had a dragon,”_ he said later their third viewing of the movie. “ _I could name it, and Auntie Erika’s Papa could make a saddle, and we could ride over the city!”_

This gave Erika an idea. A horrible idea, really, but it sunk its metaphorical claws into her and would not let go.

“J.A.R.V.I.S, please pull up all published works on dragons,” she asked in her own workshop one day (Tony had given her one, fully equipped, though she mainly used it to as an art workshop).

_“There are approximately 147 million web search results alone for the word ‘dragon’ let alone all know published works. Would you like me to start you a new file?”_ The AI inquired.

“Yes, please. Also, download any and all anatomical references that you can, especially all photo references to the dragon character Toothless.”

Since dragons didn’t actually exist (at least, not on Earth), this was going to be a tough project for her. It would make Erik happy, though, so she buckled down and got ready for the biggest Stark project since the Iron Man suit.

 

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 ‘

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT MORPHINE ASIDE FROW WHAT I’VE READ ON GOOGLE, SO IF I’VE DEPICTED A MAN ON MORPHINE WRONGLY, I APOLOGIZE.
> 
> Review if you want. It’ll make me happy, but you don’t have to :)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Translations using Google Translate:
> 
> Góðan daginn, elskan—Good Morning, darling


	10. ten

Not long after Erika got going on her project, she got stuck. She tried and tried to move past it, but it wasn’t budging.

“J.A.R.V.I.S, close Project Night Fury,” she said tiredly. “I need a break. Also, please schedule a flight to England on Daddy’s jet for tomorrow morning, and schedule a reservation for five at the Palm Court for Afternoon Tea.” She felt like having real English tea, and what better place to get it than straight from the source?

“We’re going to England tomorrow,” she announced to her siblings. “Wear your formal clothes and be ready to leave around nine a.m.”

They were used to their sister’s tip of the hat whims, so nobody questioned it.

“Can I wear my vest?” asked Sliepnir, referring to the purple paisley vest he had just gotten.

“Knock yourself out,” said Erika—everyone had several formal outfits, at her insistence.

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - --

 

“Would it be too much to ask if Erik spent the day with you tomorrow?” Jormungand asked Steve shortly after his sister’s announcement of their trip. “Erika’s whisking us away to England tomorrow for tea.”

Steve looked up from his book. “Uh, sure.”

Jormungand gave him a smile. “Thank you, Steven. Normally I would have given you more notice, but . . . . you are familiar with my sister’s whims.”

Steve bit back a laugh. “Yeah, Tony springs thing on us last minute a lot, too—it kinda runs in the family, I guess.”

Things were still a little off-kilter between them, but they’d gotten more comfortable around each other since Jormungand’s injury, and Jormungand was glad that Erik had his father around.

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

The flight from Manhattan to London was uneventful, and they arrived just in time for Afternoon Tea.

“Erika Stark, party of five,” said Erika easily at the restaurant’s matre de podium, and they were seated shortly after. A served came out with a bottle of Mumm champagne and handed out menus. They picked their finger sandwiches and teas, and the server left to place their order.

“Do Midgardians have tea like this every day?” Hela asked.

“Only in certain countries. Nobody can beat authentic English tea, though, and I thought it would be fun to get out for an afternoon,” said Erika. She looked over at Sliepnir, who was frowning at the tea menu. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never had tea,” he admitted. “I don’t know what to get.”

Erika covered his hand with her own. “Don’t worry—you’re in good hands. Now then, it looks like there are three kinds of tea here—traditional, herbal, and oriental. I myself prefer traditional, but I’m known to enjoy a cup of peppermint tea from time to time.”

Sliepnir hesitated, then nodded. “Okay, I’ll try traditional.” He then noticed that there were six teas listed under ‘Traditional English Teas. “Umm . . . .”

“If you’re not sure, stick to English Breakfast—it’s the most commonly ordered one,” she advised, and Sliepnir nodded again.

When the time to order their pots came, Erika and Sliepnir decided to share a pot of English Breakfast, Hela chose Chamomile, Fenrir chose Fine Ceylon, and Jormungand chose Vanilla Black.

Nobody was surprised when their tea came and Jormungand used up most of the table’s supplied sugar in his cup.

“It’s a little strong,” said Sliepnir after a sip of his own.

“Here, try adding milk,” said Erika, offering him the one of the small porcelain creamers. He took it and poured a small amount of milk into his tea, and then stirred before sipping lightly, and Erika could tell he liked that much better.

“So, why did you decide to kidnap us?” asked Hela.

Erika tapped her fingers against the table. “No reason,” she said innocently.

Nobody bought it.

Erika’s mask of ignorance cracked. “Okay, fine,” she huffed. “Besides the fact that I really wanted real English tea, I wanted to talk to you guys about something.” She looked around briefly, then lowering her voice, she asked, “What do you know about dragons?”

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

_“Papa, hvert fór mamma að fara?”_ asked Erik, but before Steve could ask J.A.R.V.I.S to translate, Erik stuck his tongue out slightly in concentration before saying in English, “Where’s Momma?”

 “Your Aunt Erika Stole him for the day,” he said.

“Oh. When . . . . when is he coming back?”

Steve was impressed with how far Erik had come in his pursuit of the English language. “I’m not sure, Buddy—it’s a long flight from here to where they went, so they’ll probably be back some time tonight.”

“Oh. O-kay,” said Erik, and then he went back to playing with his toys.

Steve was struck by the sudden urge to draw his son sitting amongst his toys, so he reached for his sketchpad and a pencil, and turned to a fresh page.

Later that night, when Erika and her siblings returned, Jormungand asked Steve why Erik was sleeping in the middle of the floor.

“He wanted to wait up for you,” said Steve sheepishly. “He gave me The Face when I tried putting him to bed.”

Nobody could resist The Face except Jormungand, but he’d had practice.

“Very well,” Jormungand huffed, gently picking up the sleeping toddler. “I’ll have him clean his mess first thing tomorrow. Goodnight, Steven.”

“Goodnight,” Steve said back quietly, watching Jormungand retreat to the elevator.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

“Go to him, you idiot!” Erika said to Jormungand one night not long after her and her siblings’ tea trip. “He still likes you—everyone can tell! Plus, it would make Erik happy, so everyone wins!”

Jormungand didn’t look up from his coffee cup (they had finally lifted his caffeine ban, thank the Norns).

“Come _on,_ what are you afraid of?”

Jormungand blinked. “I feel like we’ve had this conversation before,” he admitted. “It’s . . . unsettling.

“What, like Déjà vu? Don’t worry, that’s normal. Getting back on track—come on, Jor, you need to say something! I’m surprised _he_ hasn’t said anything—you should have seen him when you were hurt, he was a mess!”

Jormungand blinked. “Really?”

Erika gave him a look that said ‘DUH.’ “Why else do you think he asked you out after you were well enough to move around? Obviously, Captain Spangles wants you back, but he lost his nerve after that one date—

“It was hardly a date, Erik was with us!” Jormungand interrupted.

—So _you_ gotta step up and make a move!” Erika finished like he hadn’t spoken.

Jormungand huffed. “Fine!” he snapped, and vanished in a shimmer of green light, and Erika had approximately three seconds to think ‘ _oh, boy_ ,’ before Jormungand returned to his seat in another flash of light, red-faced. “Happy now?” he snapped.

“Did you let him know you’re still interested?” she asked.

Jormungand’s blush deepened and he nodded tersely.

Later, Erika would ask him what he did to make a red faced Steve Rogers run into the kitchen and kiss him senseless.

He never told her.

 

-          **\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ENGLAND’S AFTERNOON TEAS OR LONDON’S PALM COURT SETUP, I’M SORRY IF I GOT SOMETHING WRONG!


	11. eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The brief smut scene in this chapter (and any future chapters) is why the rating is so high.
> 
> Rebuilding a relationship at a reasonable pace is hard. UGH.

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - -

Ground rules were set and lines were drawn, neither one of them willing to move too fast for fear of getting hurt again.

Jormungand ended up sleeping in Steve’s bed, sleeping with his back pressed up against the soldier’s chest.

-          _\- - - - - - - - - - - - -_

_Jormungand was above him, grinning like a Cheshire cat before he wriggled himself down the length of Steve’s body. He was nestled between Steve’s legs and leaned down, giving Steve’s cock a small lick, then a bigger one, then he popped his mouth over the head and sucked. He worked his mouth down Steve’s length, inch by inch, until he was at the base, and he swallowed again, and Steve watched Jormungand’s head of glossy black hair bob up and down, up to the tip and back down to the root._

Steve woke bleary-eyed and hard from the dream he’d just had, and he felt like he could still feel the wet heat of Jormungand’s mouth on him.

Actually, he could still feel it, come to think of it, and it felt really, _really_ good. Steve closed his eyes again and focused on that velvet tongue swirling around him, and he blinked his eyes open and looked down, because this felt way too real, and what do you know, there was Jormungand, sucking Steve’s cock like nothing had changed between them. The sight alone of Jormungand’s mouth wrapped around his cock made Steve cum.

He came back down from his orgasm to see Jormungand smiling sheepishly. “Your erection woke me up, so I thought I’d help,” he offered innocently, looking up at Steve through his eyelashes.

Steve groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “Don’t make that face,” he groaned.

“What face?” Jormungand asked innocently.

“The face that makes it impossible for me to be mad at you,” said Steve tiredly. “I appreciate the wake-up call, but that crossed a whole bunch of consent issue lines, Jor.”

Jormungand looked away. “Apologies,” he murmured quietly, looking like a kicked puppy.

Steve groaned again. “ _That!_ _That_ is the face I’m talking about!” he said, exasperated.

“Again, apologies . . . . I’ll leave, if you wish,” said Jormungand quietly, moving to get off of Steve.

“No, wait,” said Steve, rubbing a hand over his face. “You . . . . you don’t have to go. If you don’t want to.” He reached for Jormungand’s hand and threaded their fingers together. “You just . . . surprised me. It was a good surprise, though,” he admitted, giving Jormungand a tiny smile and tugging him back down so he was laying flush against Steve.

The smile Jormungand gave him made Steve’s heart melt, and he pulled Jormungand closer.

God, he had missed this.

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

“I take it by the stupid smiles on your faces that you two worked things out?” Erika asked them when they finally emerged for breakfast.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Jormungand asked innocently, and Erika rolled her eyes.

“Just keep the PDA to a minimum, there are kids present,” she said, gesturing to Erik, who was sitting in a booster seat eating oatmeal.

“ _Good Morning, my Darling boy,”_ Jormungand greeted the boy happily, picking him up and hugging him close, kissing his head.

_“Morning, Momma,”_ Erik said back. “ _You’re happy. Are you and Papa gonna start kissing now?”_

Jormungand chuckled. _“Not in front of you, Dearest One,”_ he promised, then put him back down in his seat.

“ _Morning, Papa,”_ said Erik to Steve.

“He says good morning,” said Jormungand, and Steve smiled before ruffling Erik’s hair. “Morning, Buddy,” he greeted, sitting beside the toddler. “Is the oatmeal any good?”

Erik nodded enthusiastically, taking another big spoonful.

“You guys hungry?” asked Erika. “I can make you something, if you want.”

Steve agreed, but Jormungand gave her a wolfish grin and said, “I already ate.”

It took Erika a minute to process that, and when she did she punched her brother in the shoulder and shouted, “Dude, _TMI!_ ”

Jormungand just laughed.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

 

Just as Jormungand said he would, he was now helping the Avengers with their missions, so much so that there was talk about making him and his siblings’ official members. Sam and Bucky were also being considered official Avengers, as they helped with their fair share of missions.

The only one to decline a position on the team was Sliepnir, who ‘didn’t have the stomach for it, but thank you.’ Instead, he filled his days shopping with his sister, who turned him onto the wonderful world of Midgardian fashion—he took an instant liking to skinny jeans and beanies, and he got his ears pierced with spike gauge earrings.

“You look ridiculous,” said Fenrir when he first showed off his new clothes.

“Hey, nothing wrong with the Hipster look,” Erika defended as she came to stand beside him. “I think he looks good. Go put your stuff up, then we can go get coffee,” she told Sliepnir, who happily complied. She surveyed Fenrir and his unruly hair. “You need another haircut,” she said.

“Oh, no,” snarled Fenrir. “My hair is staying this time, thank you very much!”

Erika shrugged. “Suit yourself, Jungle Jim. Have you seen Jor and Erik?” she asked.

Fenrir rolled his eyes. “They’re with Captain Rogers, ‘bonding,’” he said, disgust evident in his voice.

Erika frowned. “Don’t tell me you still have a problem with Jor being bi,” she said, a warning clear in her voice.

Fenrir looked mildly insulted. “Of course not,” he said, and he meant it—he’d grown a lot as a person during the last few years, surprisingly. “I’m disgusted by how quickly Jormungand forgets how his precious Captain abandoned him and their child. If I were him, I would have made Captain Rogers grovel at my feet and beg my forgiveness.”

“Hey, if Jor can forgive him, so can I,” was all Erika said. “At least he’s willing to _try_.”

Fenrir snorted. “If he breaks my brother’s heart again, I’m breaking his skull,” he spat, and that took Erika by surprise.

“Okay, seriously, who the Hel are you and what have you done with Fenrir?” she asked.

Fenrir gave her a warning look and she held up her hands. “Just saying—you’ve been off-kilter since you got back. The change is kind of nice, but still weird.”

“Don’t make me regret moving back in.”

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, lookit that, he does care! Review if you want, or don’t, it’s all up to you :)


	12. twelve

There was a charity gala coming up to support the local children’s hospital, and Erika insisted her siblings attend since they were ‘official Avengers.’

“I’m not sure, Erika,” said Hela.

“Oh come on, you’ll love it!” Erika insisted. “It’s no different than when you go out and face super villains!”

Hela gave her a dry look.

“Okay, so maybe it’s a little different. Trust me, it’ll be fine. Now, let’s find you guys something to wear. And Fen, please, _please_ do something with your hair.”

When the Avengers and their newest members showed up to the gala, the paparazzi went nuts. They snapped pictures of the men in their tuxes and Natasha in her little black dress. Erika was dressed in a strapless green and gold knee-length dress with a pleated skirt, with her customary emerald teardrop necklace and earrings, her hair up in a Scandinavian crown braid, tied with a green silk ribbon. Her new cane and leg brace were even gold, to match her outfit.

Fenrir’s tuxedo was white with a black vest and tie and his hair was gelled back into a low ponytail, Jormungand’s suit was black with a green vest and bowtie, and Sliepnir wore his purple paisley vest. Hela’s dress was a red knee-length off the shoulder dress, with a gold flower necklace and matching earrings, and her long dark hair fell freely around her shoulders.

Fenrir went off by himself immediately, and Jormungand stuck close to Steve, who was having a hard time keeping his hands to himself. Sliepnir and Hela stayed with Erika, and it was the most fun Erika had had in a while.

That is, until a newly parolled Justin Hammer showed up.

Erika’s hatred for Justin Hammer and HammerTech was no secret. Tony seemed to be taking Justin’s presence in stride, treating him with just as much indifference as he always did. His gaze became sharper, however, when Justin’s attention turned to Erika.

“My goodness, look at how you’ve grown,” said Justin to Erika, who did her best to smile politely, though she knew she was failing miserably. “Have you always been that tall? They just shoot up like weds, don’t they, Tony?” he asked, a lazy grin stretching his lips. “Take my boy for example—seems like only yesterday he was toddling around in diapers, being chased by his nanny.”

Tony tried not to grimace. “Ah, yes, how is . . . .”

“Aiden,” Justin supplied.

“Right, Aiden. How is Aiden?” Not that he cared.

Before Justin could answer, a tall young man with Justin’s hair and eyes came sauntering up to them, his own smarmy smile painting his face. “Mr. Stark,” he greeted, then he looked at Erika. “Erika,” he greeted. “You look wonderful.”

Erika did her best to smile. “Aiden. Wow. Great to see you,” she forced out.

Aiden’s gaze fell over Hela and Sliepnir. “And who is this lovely creature?” he asked, taking Hela’s hand and kissing the back of it.

Erika cleared her throat. “Aiden, this is Hela—a relative from my mother’s side.” Her message was clear—back off.

Aiden’s attention shifted back to her. “Hmm. Well, Erika, I was just about to step outside for a quick minute—care to join me?” he offered.

“I’d rather be eaten alive by rabid wolves,” she said sweetly, smiling. “Oh, speaking of rabid wolves, have you met my brothers? Well, cousins, but they’re like older brothers—protective streak and all.” She pointed out Fenrir and Jormungand, and Aiden visibly paled. “So, I think I’m going to go over with them now. Bye, Aiden,” she said airily, and then gestured for Sliepnir and Hela to follow her.

Tony, who had been watching them the entire time, was trying and failing to contain his laughter.

“Ugh, I can’t stand him _or_ his dad,” Erika muttered when they were far enough away.

“So we gathered,” said Hela. “Arrogant little prick, isn’t he?”

“It runs in the family,” she said. “I need a drink.”

 

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

The rest of the gala was uneventful, and most of them went right to bed when they got back to the tower.

Coulson had been called for babysitting duty for Erik, and Jormungand thanked him profusely for his services. The former S.H.I.E.L.D agent nodded, handing over the sleepy toddler before taking his leave. Jormungand put him to bed, and then he proceeded to follow Steve to the bed they once again shared.

“You look amazing,” Steve said once their door was shut and locked, pulling Jormungand close. “Have I said that yet?”

Jormungand smiled. “Only a thousand times, but I never tire of hearing it,” he said before tilting his head up and capturing Steve’s mouth in a searing kiss.

Neither one of them got much sleep that night.

 

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

 

Tony was down in his workshop, sipping a glass of scotch, pulling up old files from his private server. One of them was a video.

It was labeled ‘Christmas 1993’ and Tony opened it, though he knew it would hurt.

_“Is this on?”_ he heard himself say behind a camera. _“Hell-o, testing, testing!”_

“ _Stark, stop being an idiot.”_

The camera’s view shifted and there sat Loki in normal clothes, a squirming little girl in his lap. _“Can I open my presents now?”_ the little girl begged.

“ _Fine by me. Babe?”_ Tony heard himself reply.

The Loki on camera gave the toddler an indulgent smile. _“Oh, very well, then, you little monster—get to it,”_ he said, releasing the girl, who squealed in delight before grabbing the nearest present and tearing it open. Tony watched the recording of his little girl opening present after present, always yelling in glee as she got the newest dolls, or a coloring kit. _“Thank you Momma, Thank you Daddy!_ She yelled, launching herself at Loki before running towards the camera and video Tony let out an _“Oof! Yeah, you’re welcome, kiddo.”_

The camera moved and was set down, and then Tony was watching himself go to Loki and pull the god to his feet. “ _Now it’s Momma’s turn for a present.”_

Tony gulped down another mouthful of scotch.

Tony on camera held Loki’s hands between them, and then he got down on one knee. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box, and he presented the box to Loki, opening it up to show a beautiful silver ring. _“Loki Odinson, will you do me the honor of becoming Loki Stark?”_

Loki looked like he was going to cry. _“Oh, of course I will, you idiot,”_ he said, and then Tony was up on his feet and their mouths were locked in a tender kiss.

_“Eww!”_ Little Erika exclaimed, looking up from her dolls and making a face, and that made Tony start laughing, both on screen and in present time.

“She never did care much to see us kissing, did she?”

Tony froze and dropped the glass in his hand, because he knew that voice. He turned slowly and stopped breathing.

“ . . . . . Loki?”

There he was, in all his Asgardian glory, looking like Hell warmed over. “You’re not hallucinating, Stark,” he said gently. “I’m here.”

Tony stumbled to his feet and walked slowly towards what could only be a ghost. “You’re dead,” he croaked. “You’re not here, you’re dead, Thor saw you die. He saw you.”

Loki ‘tsk’d. “He saw what I needed him to see, so that he may spread the tale of my death. How else was I going to get Thanos off my back?” Loki met Tony in the middle of the workshop. “Tell me one thing, before I do anything else—are you still with Pepper?”

Tony blinked and shook his head. “Um, no. We, uh, we decided to end things. Well, she decided.”

That was all the answer Loki needed, and he pulled Tony into a rough kiss.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

Erika was still asleep. That had to be the only explanation for why Loki was standing in the kitchen as if he’d never left. “I’m dreaming,” she murmured. “I’m dreaming, and I’m going to wake up now.”

Loki ‘tsk’d. “Is that any way to greet your mother?” he asked good-naturedly, coming around the counter.

Erika pinched herself. “Ow.”

Loki was still there.

“ . . . . . . Mom?”

Loki inclined his head. “I’m here _, Dóttir mín_.”

Erika’s cane clattered to the floor and she surged forward, wrapping her arms around Loki. “Mom,” she said quietly, tears running down her face. “You’re okay.”

Loki pulled back and said with a straight face “Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated,” and that made Erika laugh. “There’s a smile,” he said. “That’s better. Now, where are your siblings?”

The rest of them were just as happy to see Loki alive, though none of them hugged him. Jormungand introduced Loki to Erik, and told him that he and Steven were back together.

“Hello, little one,” Loki said to Erik, holding the toddler.

_“Halló, Afi,”,_ said Erik quietly, and Loki couldn’t help but smile. “He is beautiful,” he told Jormungand as he handed the child back.

“So, you’re back,” said Erika excitedly. “To stay this time?”

Loki nodded. “If your father will have me,” and they heard a snort before Tony came in the room and gave Loki a wide grin. “Duh, you’re always welcome here,” he said. “One condition, though—we gotta get married.”

Loki sighed. “Oh, very well,” he sighed, and Erika squealed.

“Best. Morning. Ever!”

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - --

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't keep Loki and Tony apart. During the last story, I wanted nothing more than them to get back together, and now they can, so yay!


	13. thirteen

There was something Steve wanted to do.

He’d been thinking about it for a while, now, and he was sure it was the right thing to do.

He just didn’t know how to go about doing it.

“Dude, just go for it,” Sam told him after their jog one morning. “The worst he can say is no, and I’m pretty sure he won’t.”

Steve shook his head. “I’m happy I’ve got him back, and I never want to lose him again—I need to show him that.”

“Well, if you need help, I’m your guy,” said Sam with a smile.

Bucky came back to where he’d left them. “Hey, I was his guy first!” he protested. Then, “What exactly am I your guy for?”

“Steve’s gonna propose,” Sam said before Steve could, and Steve glared at him before giving Bucky a helpless look. “What he said,” he muttered.

Bucky just gave him a crooked grin and clapped him on the shoulder. “’Bout damn time, Rogers—I thought I’d have to do it for you!”

Steve punched Bucky in his non-metallic shoulder.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - --

 

 

Operation Ball-and-Chain (“Dude, seriously?” “What? Like you can come up with something better?” “Oh, I _know_ I can”) was put into its planning stages, and it enlisted the aid of all available Avengers (No, Tony, I don’t want fireworks) and Non-Avengers (Yes, Erika, if he says yes, you can help plan the wedding).

It was a good thing everyone was not completely horrible at keeping secrets, or the cat would have been out of the bag the day Steve decided to ask for help.

“He’s gonna be so excited!” Erika squealed as she held a squirming Erik in her arms. “And this lil guy’s gonna look so cute in a tux!” she cooed at her nephew, sitting him down and sitting beside him, reaching for the guitar she’d just gotten—she still had a lot of work to do if she wanted to be ready.

Steve just gave her an indulgent smile and went back to practicing drawing Nordic runes.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - -

 

 

Jormungand let out a jaw-splitting yawn and stretched languidly, reaching for the other side of the bed he shared with Steve.

Steve’s side was empty, but still warm, so the blond hadn’t been gone long. On Steve’s pillow, Jormungand noticed, was a small envelope with his name written in beautifully scripted Nordic Runes. Curious, Jormungand ran the enveloped over in his hands and carefully pried it open. He slid a slip of parchment (actual parchment—not paper!) out and skimmed the note written on it.

_Jor,_

_I want to ask you something, but you have to come to me, and you’ve got a few stops on the way. When you’re ready, head to the bakery we always go to. Tasha’s there, and she has something for you._

_—Steve_

Jormungand frowned slightly, but then it melted into a smile. “As you wish,” he murmured, sitting up fully and stretching again.

Erika had taken Erik out for the day, he was informed, and so he didn’t have to worry about managing the toddler. Tony offered to drive him, but he politely declined, saying he’d prefer to walk. He arrived at the bakery and was greeted by Natasha, who handed him a small box with a ribbon tied around the top. “Don’t open it until you get to Steve,” she instructed, and then handed him another small envelope.

_Jor,_

_I know you need your daily dose of diabetes in a cup, so why don’t you join Bruce at that coffee shop we visited on our first date?_

_—Steve_

Jormungand gave Natasha a look but said nothing, and Natasha held up her hands in a ‘don’t look at me’ gesture.

True to Steve’s words, Bruce was waiting for him at the coffee shop Jormungand and Steve had visited on that first night out. There was a cup of tea in front of him and a steaming cup of something on the other side of the table—a latte with something drawn into the foam.

Jormungand’s throat went dry as he stared at the art—the Nordic rune for love stared right back at him. “Do you know what this rune means?” he asked quietly.

Bruce shook his head. “Steve just drew me a picture and said to give it to the barista. He also gave me this,” he said, holding up another envelope. “Go ahead and drink it—Steve told me what you liked. I think he still needs a few minutes to get ready.”

Jormungand almost asked ‘ready for what?’ but decided against it, taking a sip of latte before opening the envelope and reading the note.

_Jor,_

_This is the last note, I promise. Meet me at the park we took Erik to last week._

_—Steve_

Jormungand sighed. “This is all somewhat confusing,” he admitted, fiddling with the ribbon on the cupcake box.

Bruce just smiled and sipped his tea.

When Jormungand got to the park, Steve was nowhere in sight. He looked and looked, but the blond was nowhere to be seen.

He did, however, see his sister sitting on the park’s small improv stage, A guitar in her hands and his son sitting quietly by her feet. She spotted him and waved, then began playing and singing.

_It's a beautiful night,_  
We're looking for something dumb to do.  
Hey baby,  
I think I wanna marry you.  


Jormungand looked around for Steve again, and huffed when he couldn’t find the blond. He looked up at the stage again and noticed something else—a sign was sitting by Erika, and it said ‘open the box.’

Jormungand looked down at the cupcake box in his hand, then back up at his sister. She nodded and winked, and kept playing and singing.

Jormungand opened the box, and almost dropped it—inside was a chocolate cupcake, a gold ring with an emerald stone setting on top of the swirls of frosting.

_Is it the look in your eyes,_  
Or is it this dancing juice?  
Who cares baby,  
I think I wanna marry you.

Jormungand was shaking by the time he spotted Steve making his way to him. The blond stopped in front of him, took the hand not holding the box, and got down on one knee.

BY the Norns, Jormungand _couldn’t breathe_.

“Jormungand, You turned my whole world on its head. I know so much more now than I ever did before I met you, and I’m grateful for every moment we’ve had, good and bad,” said Steve, pulling out an identical ring from his pocket. He gestured to the box. “That one was just a prop—I didn’t want to get chocolate all over your hands when I did this.” He held up the ring in between two fingers. “Jormungand Lokison—will you marry me?”

The box dropped from Jormungand’s trembling hand and his hand covered his mouth, tears welling up in his eyes. He nodded fervently and let out a choked sob. “Yes,” he managed to choke out, and then he very nearly tackled Steve to the ground.


	14. fourteen

Jormungand was nervous. While in Reykjavik, he had gotten in the habit of baking while nervous. This meant, that at four in the morning one Saturday after Steve proposed, while everyone was sleeping, Jormungand was baking tray after tray of cookies, and the counters were full at least fifteen different types by the time Steve came in for his morning cup of coffee.

“Whoa,” he said, taking a look around. “That’s . . . . a lot of cookies. Is this why you never came to bed?”

Jormungand hesitated, then nodded. “A nervous habit I’ve picked up, I’m afraid,” he confided. “It’s . . . not usually this bad,” he admitted.

Steve let out a small ‘huh,’ picking up an oatmeal butterscotch cookie for inspection before taking a bite. “Mmm. Good cookie,” he muttered after he’d finished it, going for another. “You know, if you wanted to, you could probably open a bakery,” he said, only half-kidding.

Jormungand’s brow furrowed. “They’re not _that_ good,” he muttered, swiping a cookie for himself.

Steve answered him by taking another cookie, biting into it with a raised eyebrow as if saying ‘I’m still eating them, aren’t I?’ and Jormungand flushed, and Steve was about to ask, “why are you nervous?” but Erika bounced into the room, carrying a half-asleep Erik.

“Good morning.” She called. “Mmmmm, something smells good!”

Erik immediately perked up at the sight and smell of freshly baked cookies. “ _Má ég smáköku_?” he asked, eyeing a pile of chocolate chunk cookies.

“ _Auðvitað, kærust, en aðeins einn - þú þarft að rétta morgunverð_ ,” said Jormungand, giving his son a cookie on a napkin. “ _Hvað viltu í morgun_?”

Erik sat in his aunt’s arms, munching his cookie. “ _kanill rúlla_!” he said after a moments’ thought.

“Ooh, cinnamon rolls do sound good!” Erika chimed in, and Jormungand gave her a hard look. “What?” she asked innocently.

“Are you the reason my son wants sweets now all the time?” he demanded, eyebrows raised.

Erika returned the look. “Says the guy who baked a million cookies overnight,” she shot back. “Your sweet tooth is legendary, don’t blame this one on me!”

“Yes, but his eating habits changed _once we moved back in_. _Erik, ég ætla að gera þig sætur rúlla þínum, en þú munt ekki fá neitt sætt með hádegisverði. Viltu enn þá?”_

Erik pouted for about five seconds, but then he nodded, finishing his cookie, and Jormungand got to work baking a big batch of cinnamon rolls while Erika and Steve packed up all the cookies in airtight containers. They were done by the time the others in the Tower woke up, and Erik wasn’t the only one excited about having sweet rolls for breakfast.

“Damn, those smell good!” said Clint, perching in a seat by the breakfast bar. “When they gonna be ready?”

“Geez, Bird Brain, impatient much?” asked Tony.

“You’re one to talk, Stark,” Clint shot back. “You’ve got no room talking to me about patience!”

“Girls, girls, you’re both pretty,” said Erika, and Fenrir snorted, leaning on the counter beside Jormungand. “Depends on who you ask,” he muttered. “They’d both look terrible in dresses.”

Jormungand snorted, not bothering to cover his laughter.

“What are cinnamon rolls?” asked Sliepnir, and Erika grinned.

“You, my friend, are in for a treat,” she told the youngest of her brothers. “Especially Jor’s cinnamon rolls—they’re almost on parr with Hela’s French toast!”

Jormungand raised a brow. ‘Almost’?”

Erika shrugged, and Hela gave him a smug smile. “I believe the phrase is ‘don’t hate the player,’” said Hela, and Fenrir’s laughter echoed off the walls.

 

-          - - - - - - - - -- - - -

 

Loki sat with the Avengers, eating breakfast his son had made, as if nothing had changed. Tony and the Hawk still bickered like children, Dr. Banner and Ms Romanov ate silently, and his children were now speaking about a ‘bake-off’ between Jormungand and Hela.

Loki watched as Sliepnir tried sweet rolls for the first time, praising his elder brother’s cooking. He watched as Fenrir stuffed his face, even giving Jormungand his version of a compliment—a smart-ass remark about him baking as well as any maiden of Asgard, and Jormungand actually recognized it for the compliment it was.

Since his return, he had seen something extraordinary—his children were getting along. They had always been able to stand each other for a time, but he had never seen them as united as they were now.

“It was Grandma,” said Erika quietly, sitting between Loki and Tony.

Loki blinked. “What?”

“They all got back together after Grandma died,” said Erika, and Loki understood then—their grandmother had died, and they still believed him imprisoned—they came together, because they thought all they had was each other.

“I wanted to go with them, to visit her grave, but someone had to watch Erik,” she said.

Loki shook his head minutely. “There is no grave. She was placed in a boat and lit on fire, sent away on the waters surrounding Asgard. Thor said it was a sight to behold.”

Erika swallowed. “I think Sliepnir planted a tree somewhere . . . her garden, I think. That’s where they went to mourn.” She looked down. “I want to see it, but . . . . I can’t go there on my own anymore. I don’t want to ask any of them to go back, either.”

Loki frowned. “You have magic. I’ve seen you use it.”

Erika bit her bottom lip. “Fury has it. Well, I guess Hydra has it, now. I traded it to get Numbskull’s One and Two out of trouble.

Loki’s frown lightened. “Oh, Child. This Hydra has but a sample of your magics. They cannot take your siedir—the root of your power. You simply have to work to reconnect yourself.” Louder, he said, “Jormungand, you will train your sister to reconnect with her magic, yes?”

Jormungand looked up. “Yes, of course,” he said without hesitation, and he gave Erika a smile. “Of course, she may not have time for training—she does, after all, have a wedding to plan.”

Loki frowned slightly, confused—he didn’t want a wedding for him and Tony, and Tony had begrudgingly agreed to just have the necessary papers signed, without the ceremony.

Ah. His son’s wedding, then.

Erika frowned slightly. “I do?”

Jormungand raised an eyebrow. “Do you not recall asking to help plan it? I believe your exact words were, ‘If you do decide to get married, I want to plan it.’”

“. . . . . . I’ll be happy to help, but I don’t remember saying that. When did we talk about this?”

Jormungand turned his attention back to Steve, but was still speaking to Erika. “Before our first date,” he said quietly, smiling slightly.

“ . . . . . . Oh. Oh! Right, I remember now! Okay! Yay, my brother’s getting _married and I get to help!_ Jeez, this is gonna take a while. I’m gonna google a checklist so I don’t forget a single thing!” she said excitedly, rising from her chair and leaving the room. A few seconds later she came back in, went back to the table, picked up her plate of half-finished cinnamon rolls, and exited the room again with the plate in her hand and a forkful of roll halfway to her mouth.

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Time to plan a wedding! (and time for some serious googling).
> 
>  
> 
> Translations using Google Translate:
> 
> Má ég smáköku?—May I have a cookie?
> 
> Auðvitað, kærust, en aðeins einn - þú þarft að rétta morgunverð—Of course, dearest, but only one—you need a proper breakfast
> 
> Hvað viltu í morgun?—what would you like?
> 
> kanill rúlla!—cinnamon rolls!
> 
> Erik, ég ætla að gera þig sætur rúlla þínum, en þú munt ekki fá neitt sætt með hádegisverði. Viltu enn þá?—Erik, I'll make you your sweet rolls, but you won't get anything sweet with lunch. Do you still want them?


	15. fifteen

**12 months before the wedding**

Erika found a checklist and had J.A.R.V.I.S save it to her StarkPad, and she showed it to Jormungand the next day so they could get to work.

The wedding had, obviously, already been announced, and an engagement announcement was placed in the local papers. Erika signed them up for a wedding website, the budget didn’t matter (according to her), and she asked one of her school friends, now a wedding planner, to help (with the grooms’ permission, of course).

“Did you have a date in mind?” she asked both of them. Steve didn’t really have a preference, but Jormungand wanted something in Spring. Steve agreed easily enough, and they worked out a date. A location was chosen and reservations were made for the ceremony and reception site.

The first speed bump was the guest list.

Aside Jormungand’s father and siblings, he had no immediate family, and he didn’t really have friends.

Steve’s family was dead.

“Jeez, you two are morbid,” Erika muttered. “How about we focus on who you know who _isn’t_ dead, okay?”

“Well, the team, obviously,” said Steve. “Bucky and Sam, too, and Phil.” He paused, and then looked down at his hands. “I’d say Peggy, but I don’t know if she’d be up to the trip.”

Jormungand placed his hand over Steve’s. “We can still invite her,” he said quietly, smiling slightly. “I’m sure she’d love to hear that you’re getting married.”

Steve smiled back. “Yeah, you’re right. She’ll probably see it in the papers first, though, so sending an actual invitation would be a good idea. That way she can’t yell at me for not telling her.”

Steve was referring, of course, to the fact that his and Jormungand’s wedding announcement had made Headline News on a global scale, and social media sites were exploding with the news. (Steve could barely keep up with his Twitter on a normal day. Now, he just didn’t bother).

“Okay, so that’s Peggy, Phil, Natasha, Clint, Dad, Dr. Banner—are we inviting Thor? How do we even contact him?” Erika asked.

Jormungand bristled slightly at the mention of his uncle. “I believe he’s staying with Dr. Foster,” he said, a slight chill in his voice. “Though if his invitation gets ‘lost in the mail,’ I certainly won’t complain.” At the look Steve gave him, he sighed and said. “Fine. Invite the big oaf, for all I care.”

“He’s a lot smarter than you give him credit for, you know,” said Steve.

Jormungand gave Steve a wicked grin. “I know; I just enjoy winding him up,” he admitted, and Steve huffed out a small laugh.

Erika laughed outright. “Yeah, pissing him off is funny,” she agreed. “So, Thor’s coming—he’ll probably want to bring Dr. Foster and _his_ friends, too.”

Jormungand’s expression warmed slightly. “I don’t mind if they come—I like the spunky brunette that follows Dr. Foster around,” he admitted.

“Okay,” said Erika, continuing with the list. “So, The Avengers, Sam and Bucky, and Peggy. Fenrir, Hela, and Sliepnir, obviously, and Mom.” She looked at Jormungand. “Any friends from Iceland or Space Viking Land?”

Jormungand raised an eyebrow.

“ . . . . . I’ll take that as a ‘no.’ Hey, Jor, what about your mom?”

Jormungand started. “I . . . . . don’t know,” said Jormungand. “I haven’t seen my mother since before my banishment,” he admitted quietly. “I’m not sure if she’d even come, especially with Father in attendance.”

Erika winced slightly. “Ooh. Right.” Jormungand had told her that their mother had severed her ties with Loki and their older children. Her relationship with Loki was . . . . strained, to put it nicely. “Oh-kaaay, no Mama Space Viking. Anyone else?”

They worked on the list for a while longer, then Erika saved the list to her StarkPad.

 

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

“Can there be a Maid of Honor with no bride?” Erika asked later. “Or is it just two best men?”

Jormungand didn’t look up from the StarkPad in front of him. “I have no idea, but I want either you or Fenrir, if that helps.”

Erika ‘hmm’d. “While I’d love to, and I’ll totally still be a bridesmaid if you want, I think you should ask Fen.”

The next day, Jormungand asked Fenrir, and his brother accepted the role, but said “If you call me a ‘maid of honor’, I will disembowel you.”

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- -

 

“Hey, Bucky, got a minute?” Steve asked as he came down to one of the training rooms where Bucky was, making sure to loudly announce his arrival so Bucky didn’t startle.

Bucky paused in his sparring match with Natasha. “Sure,” he said, and made a ‘time-out’ gesture. “What’s up, Steve?”

Steve rubbed the back of his head. “So, Jor’s brother is going to be his best man, and I was wondering if you’d want to be mine.”

Bucky smirked before snapping his heels together, saluting smartly. “James Buchanan Barnes, at your service!” he cried, and Steve rolled his eyes.

“A simple ‘yes’ would have done it,” he said, giving Bucky a small smile.

Bucky grinned back, and Steve noted that it was the happiest the former Winter Soldier had looked since coming to Manhattan—being around the Avengers was good for him.

 

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

The one part about Jormungand’s wedding that Erika did not like was the fact that they were both guys.

Wait, that came out wrong.

The one part about his wedding that Erika did not like was the fact that they weren’t going to be able to look at wedding dresses. (Erika had mentioned it as a joke and Jormungand had deadpanned that he looked terrible in lace).

Picking out a tux turned out to be almost just as much fun, though, and they had something for both grooms picked out in no time. They didn’t need to order anything until about two to four months before the actual ceremony, but having something picked out made Erika feel better.

“Erik’s gonna be such a cute little ring bearer,” Erika cooed as she looked at little boy’s tuxedos, said boy sitting on the floor beside her and doing what he did best—play with Legos.

When they had first started planning, he had asked what they were doing, and the answer he’d gotten—“We’re making Steve your legal Papa”—had satisfied him, so he’d lost interest.

Erika felt bad that she had less time to work on Erik’s surprise, but she still did what she could, and she figured everything should be ready—both Erik’s surprise _and_ her brother’s wedding—within weeks of each other.

 

 

 

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - -

 

 

 

 

**6-9 months before the wedding**

Since the only other woman Jormungand knew beside his sisters was Natasha, he opted to only have his sisters be ‘bridesmaids,’ since he still felt uncomfortable around the Black Widow. He left that part of it to Erika and Hela, since they’d be the ones wearing them, and he ended up actually liking what they’d picked out.

Finding an officiant wasn’t a problem (Tony knew a guy that owed him a favor—that’s all he was going to say).

Finding ceremony musicians, a photographer, and a florist also wasn’t a problem. The next snag in the road, however, came with the caterer. Steve didn’t want anything too outlandish, while Jormungand was used to grand feasts for celebrations. They came to a compromise (after a long, _long_ argument) and Erika had the caterer booked not long after they settled on what they wanted.

 

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - -- - -- - - --

 

 

**4-6** **months before the wedding**

“Here, look at this one!” Sliepnir called from across the room, turning it so that Jormungand could get a better view. On the screen was a black and white wedding cake with lilies all over it.

Jormungand ‘hmm’d and asked him to bookmark that page, and Sliepnir did so, happy to help his brother in any way he could.

Erika was currently on the phone with a bakery, asking about and taking notes of the different cakes they sold, and she was also scheduling a time for them to come in and sample some of them.

Hela and Sliepnir both found other cake ideas, and they were bookmarked as well.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - -- - -

 

All of the wedding guests would be staying I Stark Tower, of course—there were two whole floors with nothing BUT spare rooms, and Tony was more than happy to house everyone who could make it. He also arranged transportation to and from the tower to the ceremony.

Steve had Tony help him with reserving a hotel for the honeymoon. He wouldn’t tell Jormungand where they were going—he said it was a surprise.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

**2-4 months before the wedding**

Jormungand was not fond of needles. He was even less fond of the fact that he might have to give blood in order to obtain a marriage license (He wasn’t exactly _human_ , after all, and his blood would raise questions).

He was beyond relieved when he found out that New York marriages only required you give blood if you were Hispanic or African-American, and as he and Steven were, as his sister said it, ‘white boys,’ there would be no blood tests. Thank the Norns.

The tuxedos were ordered and Erika went with Jormungand to speak with the caterer, and that was when Erika learned that Jormungand and Steve had agreed on a dry reception—no alcohol whatsoever.

“Wonder if Dad knows that,” Erika said after she found that out.

“He does,” said Jormungand.

“He’ll probably sneak it in.”

“I know.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“No.”

“Okay, then.”

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- -

 

“Here, you’ll like this one,” Erika said to Jormungand as they sat in a bakery trying different cake samples.

Jormungand took a bite of a cake slice that was reddish brown with white frosting. “Mmm. What is this?” he asked after swallowing.

“Red velvet cake with buttercream frosting,” said Erika instantly. “Like it?”

Jormungand nodded, taking another bite.

“Okay, red velvet and buttercream it is! Got a certain design for the outside in mind, or should they just surprise you?” Before Jormungand could answer, though, she said, “Ooh, wait! I need paper and a pencil! I have an idea!”

Raising an eyebrow, Jormungand handed over the notepad and pencil they’d brought with them. Within minutes she had a quick drawing of a seven-tier cake with vines and flowers covering all but the bottom tier. “So, I’m thinking a pale green for the fondant, with the vines and flowers being gold. On the bottom tier, we can put yours and Steve’s vows in gold, but write them in runes, and they’d go all the way around, one above the other.” She looked up from the paper. “Unless you want had something else in mind, then we can totally forget my idea.”

Jormungand gave her a fond smile after glancing at the drawing. “When Steven began courting me, I said that you could plan the wedding. I meant it, Little Sister—whatever you think best is what we’ll do.”

Erika bit her bottom lip. “Well, yeah, but it’s _your_ wedding.”

Jormungand ‘hmm’d. “Tell you what—you work with them on the cake, if you let me make a few minor tweaks to the floral arrangements.”

Erika grinned. “Deal! So, that’s a red velvet and buttercream cake with green fondant, gold flowers, and gold wedding vows—probably a traditional one, since you guys are writing your own and I have no idea what Steve’s writing for his.”

Jormungand hesitated before turning to a fresh page on the notepad and picking up the pencil. “Steven doesn’t have to, but I want to recite this after my own vows.”

Erika pulled the paper towards her and read silently. “Wow. That’s really sweet. Where did you get this?”

Jormungand ducked his head. “I’m unfamiliar with wedding customs, so I may have googled several things related to weddings—that’s the one set of vows I found that I felt I could say to him and mean every word.”

“Aww, that’s adorable,” Erika gushed.

“Don’t make me regret letting you help me.”

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Steve was in charge of wedding rings, and he had them picked out in no time. When he was asked if he wanted them engraved, thought for a moment, then nodded and wrote something down on a piece of paper.

“She’s a lucky girl,” the young woman behind the counter said with a smile, and Steve couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him.

“You don’t read a lot of news, do you?” he asked.

She gave him a small smile. “Nah, too much politic. I’m kind of a hermit. Why?”

Steve smiled slowly and shook his head. “No reason.”

She squinted at him. “You know, you look an awful lot like that Captain America dude. My sister won’t shut up about him—did you know he’s getting married, too?”

Steve raise an eyebrow. “Really? Small world.”

“Yeah, no kidding. So, when do you need these bad boys?”

 

-          - - - -  - - - - - - -

 

 

 

**1-2 months before the wedding**

**_A small town in New Maxico_ **

Thor and Jane were making breakfast when the mail came.

“Hey, Thor, you got a letter!” Darcy called from the front door of their newly renovated lab/home. “It’s from New York!” She brought the mail in the kitchen and handed the Thunder God a surprisingly thick envelope with a wax seal.

Thor studied the envelope before opening it and pulling out a thick card of parchment.

“What is it?” Jane asked, peering at the loopy handwriting.

“A wedding announcement,” said Thor quietly. “My nephew’s getting married.”

Thor and Jormungand had never quite seen eye to eye (that was probably because of the Ragnarok prophecy and the fact that they were destined to kill each other). Still, something akin to pride swelled within Thor’s chest.

He was happy for his nephew.

“My friends, will you accompany me to his ceremony?” Thor asked his new family.

“Of course,” said Jane. “I’d love to—I don’t think I’ve ever met your nephew—or any of your family, really. Well, besides your parents. And your brother,” she added.

Thor looked at Eric, who gave him a thumbs up, then to Darcy, who shrugged and said, “Sure, why not?”

Thor filled out the return card and set it aside to go in the mail in the morning, and then their breakfast preparations continued.

 

 

-          - - - - -- - - - - -- - - -

**_Washington, DC_ **

Peggy rarely ever got mail anymore, so the letter was a bit of a surprise. She flipped the surprisingly heavy envelope over to look at the wax seal stamped with a serpent over a shield, then looked back at the return address.

Who did she know that lived in Manhattan?

With great care, Peggy pried open the envelope and slid out a heavy parchment card. The words on it were hand-written in elegant, looping handwriting, and as she read it she began to tear up.

‘It’s about time,’ she thought s she filled out the return card. On Steven’s last visit, Peggy had asked about his new lover, and he’d said that they weren’t together anymore—he’d looked absolutely heartbroken. It was good to see that they had worked things out.

 

 

-          - - - - -  - -- - - - - - - -- - - - - -

 

 

 

**2 weeks to 1 month before the wedding**

The seating charts were one of the easiest things they had to do. There were only about thirty or so people that had RSVP’d, and Erika had suggested they leave about ten or so open seats for anyone unexpected.

He didn’t know that this was because Erika had (with the help of her returning magic) taken a trip to Asgard and had convinced a certain someone to attend the ceremony (and boy, did she hope Jor liked the surprise).

Final preperations with the caterer and florist were made, and the decorations were given a once-over. The ceremony and reception song lists and music were finalized, and Erika introduced Jormungand to a few of her school friends, who were part of their own string quartet and were more than happy to perform.

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - -

**1 week before the wedding**

“Wow, that looks good on you,” said Erika as Jormungand tried on his tuxedo—white with a green vest and tie, and it did look pretty good on him.

“You really do look good,” she said again as he studied himself in the full-length mirror after he’d muttered “Too pale,” quietly. “You look fine, and Steve’s not gonna be able to look away.”

Much to his embarrassment, Erika asked if he needed any help packing for his honeymoon, and he gently told her that no, he didn’t need help and yes, he could do it on his own.

**The day before the wedding**

Jormungand hadn’t told Steve that Peggy had RSVP’d, so the groom was completely floored when the ‘bride’ wheeled her into Stark Tower in a wheelchair.

“Peggy,” he breathed. “You—holy cow, you made it!” he said happily, rushing forward. “I didn’t think—” He looked at Jormungand and narrowed his eyes. “ _Someone_ didn’t tell me you’d gotten the invitation.”

Jormungand gave him a sheepish smile. “Surprise?” he said hesitantly, his voice raising at the end.

Steve sighed, then his irritation melted away. “Come on, Peg, let’s get you settled,” he sighed, and he gave Jormungand a Look that promised the shorter man that he would pay for this.

Jormungand felt a chill go up his spine and grinned, showing off his too sharp teeth.

Erika found them soon after, and insisted Jormungand come out with her to take a yoga class and have lunch, then come with her to get their hair done for the rehearsal dinner.

At said dinner, they finally got a good look at who would be attending the ceremony, which, as they had already come to the conclusion, was not a lot. The Avengers were there, as were Steve’s friends (Former S.H.I.E.L.D agents and a few others. His somewhat friend and former neighbor even made it) and Thor’s new friends. Agents Hill and Coulson showed up, as well as Coulson’s new team.

The few people Jormungand had invited that he’d met in Iceland had also come, much to his surprise, but he welcomed them nonetheless. They all greeted him warmly and gave Erik little hugs and pats on the head, which the boy loved (He’d become a regular attention whore, thanks to Erika).

The dinner was going well, and Jormungand thought now was as good of a time as any to start the toasts, so he stood up and took a deep breath, and he got the small crowd’s attention.

“My family isn’t exactly the most normal one around, and my life has been . . . . . odd. I’ve been mostly an outcast for most of my life, and I honestly never thought I’d find that one person to share the rest of my life with. But then, this wonderful man came crashing into my life, and he’s had my heart since I met him . . . . . even if I didn’t have his. I’m a patient man, however, and I’m glad, because I never would have forgiven myself if I let him walk out of my life for good.” He looked at Steve, then. “Erik and I are both thrilled to have you in our life, and we hope you’ll be there for a long, long time.”

Several other toasts followed, and then their food came.

Steve held Jormungand’s hand throughout the entire dinner.

**The wedding day**

The Big Day was finally here, and everything looked great. It was an outdoor ceremony and reception, and there were blue, green, silver and gold flowers _everywhere_. The cake looked good, too—seven tiers with pale green fondant and gold flowers on six of the tiers, and gold runes around the bottom tier. On the top stood a hollow crystal heart with a smaller heart hanging from it, Steve and Jormungand’s names and the date engraved on it.

“I’m going to be sick,” Jormungand muttered as he waited for the music to cue him to start down the aisle.

“You’ll be fine,” said Erika, smoothing down her emerald green dress. Hela did the same, and they both gave Jormungand reassuring smiles.

The music started and Jormungand paled. “I can’t do this,” he wheezed, taking a step back. He started when Loki touched his shoulder.

“You’ll be fine, Child,” said his father. “Now, come—time to make your grand entrance.”

Erika and Hela went out first, then Jormungand was led out by Loki, and when he saw Steve his heartbeat sped up.

He looked _wonderful._

Jormungand was dry-mouthed as Loki gave away his second-eldest, and he couldn’t stop staring at Steve throughout the Minister’s words.

He was startled out of his trance when Steve started speaking.

“I’m not good with words. On the battlefield, it’s different—I’m able to lead my team to victory, and I know they all look to me for direction. Off of that field, though, I usually say things that make people want to hit me. On our first date, I thought for sure I would say something wrong, and you would dump my dinner on my head and walk out, and I’m really glad you didn’t. I know what my life would be like without you, and I never want to go through that again.

“I, Steve Rogers, take you, Jormungand Lokison, to be my beloved husband, to have and to hold you, to honor you, to treasure you, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy, in the good times, and in the bad, and to love and cherish you always. I promise you this from my heart, for all the days of my life.”

Steve gave him a warm smile.

Jormungand swallowed, willing his voice not to crack as he began his own vows.

“I inherited my father’s nickname of ‘Silvertongue’—I’ve always managed to say exactly what needs to be said. With you, though, it’s different. I’m not always able to, ah, persuade you that I’m right, and . . . I think that’s a good thing. Like I’ve said before, I was an outcast for most of my life, and I never thought I’d find The One. I have, though, and I’m glad I did. I love you, Steven, with all that I am.

“I, Jormungand Lokison, take you, Steven Rogers, to be my beloved husband, to have and to hold you, to honor you, to treasure you, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy, in the good times, and in the bad, and to love and cherish you always. I promise you this from my heart, for all the days of my life.”

He didn’t hear what the minister said after that, but then it didn’t matter because Steven was kissing him, and he was pouring his heart and soul into that kiss, so Jormungand returned the kiss with just as much love and eagerness. They parted, and people were applauding, but all Jormungand saw was his husband.

 

 

-          - - - - - - -- - -- - - --

 

Dancing was not Steve’s forte.

He’d tried to explain this at the very beginning, but everyone had just said ‘practice makes perfect.’

“Sorry if I step on your feet,” he said to his new husband quietly as they stood in the center of a patch of grass, waiting for the music to start. Westlife’s ‘Beautiful in White’ was soon heard in a beautiful string quartet rendition, and Steve wondered if this is why Erika had insisted her brother wear white.

They moved slowly, neither one of them very confident at first, but then the rest of the world narrowed to just the two of them and it didn’t matter how horrible Steve was or how nervous Jormungand was.

It was just the two of them, until death do they part.

After their first dance, Erika told Jormungand she had a surprise for him, and she led him over to a table where a beautiful brunette woman in a blue sat.

Jormungand’s breath caught in his throat.

“ . . . . . Mother?”

The woman stood up and approached Jormungand, a hesitant smile pulling the corners of her mouth. “My Jormungand,” she said in a melodious voice. “My precious boy,” she sighed, reaching out to cradle his cheek. “Look at how you’ve grown.”

Jormungand swallowed and reached up to grab her hand. “Mother, how did you—” He looked from his mother to Erika.

“I thought you’d like to see your mom on your wedding day,” Erika said quietly. “And I really hope I was right, because if not then I’m really sorry.”

Jormungand looked back at his mother. “How in the worlds did she convince you to come?” he asked thickly.

Jormungand’s mother smiled at him. “My quarrel is with your father—If the price of seeing you is seeing him, so be it.” She looked past Jormungand to where Loki was sitting with Tony. “I’m glad he’s found happiness,” she said sadly, then more cheerful, she said to her son, “I’m glad _you_ have found happiness.”

Jormungand gave his mother a tight hug, then he reached out for Steve’s hand. “Mother, this is Steven. Steven, this is my mother Angrboda.”

Angrboda offered Steve her hand, and he kissed the back of it. “Ma’am,” said Steve, giving her a charming smile.

Jormungand gave Erika a look as Steve was laying the charm on his mother. “How in all the Realms did you find her?”

Erika shrugged. “I tried Asgard first, but then everyone told me she was from Jotenheim, so then I went there, and holy cow is that place cold! You know, the weirdest thing happened when I went there—your mom touched me and I turned blue. It was weird. Anyway, long story short, I managed to get her down here with almost no hassle!”

Jormungand blinked. “My mother swore an oath never to see my father again, and you managed to bring her to where she would be within twenty feet of him.” He smiled and shook his head. “You truly are one of us.”

Erika beamed.


	16. sixteen

A day after the wedding, Jormungand and Steve left for their honeymoon.

_“What’s a Honeymoon?_ ” Erik asked as Erika took him with her down to Tony’s lab.

“It’s a thing Grownups do after they get married,” said Erika. “They go somewhere special and spend time together.”

“ _Like a vacation?”_ Erik asked, looking around the reflective surface of Tony’s private elevator.

Erika hesitated. “Uh, yeah. Like a vacation.”

The elevator dinged and Erik wandered out into the lab, followed by Erika. “So, what’s this big surprise of yours?” she asked Tony, who was working on a car.

Tony practically bounced up and ushered her to the middle of the workshop. “Here, stand here,” he said, and then he went back to his computer. Seconds later, a 3-D model of his suit was visible next to where Erika stood.

Only, it wasn’t his suit.

It was . . . . . . slimmer.

Also, it was pink.

Erika reached out a hand, but then drew it back. “Did you . . . . . ?”

“Yup,” said Tony, popping the p. He hit another key and the floor opened up, the real thing rising up slowly.

Erika ran a finger down one of its arms. “It’s _gorgeous_ ,” she breathed, then she turned and attacked Tony. “It’s beautiful! I love it! Thank you, Daddy!”

Tony patted her on the back. “Yeah, sure thing, Kiddo,” he said quietly.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

It took her a few tries, but Erika got a hang of her new suit fairly quickly (Even if she did have a few close calls. Hey, nobody’s perfect).

“Come on, Jar-Jar, I wanna see what this thing can do!” Erika said from inside her suit as she angled herself upwards and shot up into the sky.

“ _Miss Stark, Sir is attempting to contact you. Shall I patch him through?”_ asked the AI.

“Sure,” said Erika, looking around at how high she was. “Hey, Dad, what’s up?” she asked when J.A.R.V.I.S patched Tony through.

_“Erika, you need to get back home, now,”_ came Tony’s voice. “ _There are Doombots everywhere, the Avengers have been called to handle it.”_

She looked around and saw what he was saying—they really were everywhere. One Doombot in particular caught her attention, though—she could feel that one pulse with life.

“Looks like Doom came to the party personally,” she muttered.

_“Erika, I’m not kidding—you need to get back to Stark Tower and let us deal with Doom.”_

“’Kay,’” she said, and then she disconnected the call.

The Avengers were always looking to get their hands on the real Doom—this was a perfect opportunity for her to show them she wasn’t useless. She shot off towards Doom at full speed, ignoring J.A.R.V.I.S’s warnings, and she tackled the maniac in mid-air.

“Release Doom at once!” she heard him screech, but she kept diving for the ground.

“Not a chance, Metal-head!” she shot back, and drove her and Doom into the ground. A cloud of dust and debris exploded all around them, making her cough despite the suit’s ventilation system. “Alright, Party’s over, Toaster Oven, time to – aww, shit.”

It was just another decoy bot, with nothing behind the busted mask and armor but wires and circuitry.

“Bastard’s getting sneak,” she muttered, standing up, but then something hit her and the force caused her to fall over.

She groaned and rolled over. “Okay, that hurt. What in the Hel hit me?” When she finally got back up, she was rendered speechless—for, like, half a second.

“ _AIDEN?!”_

There, in the middle of the road, stood Aiden Hammer, heir to HammerTech Industries, holding what looked like a crooked walking staff. “Hey, the crazy Latverian was right,” he chuckled, looking at the stick. “This thing _does_ work.” He finally got a good look at the suit, though, and he looked confused. “You’re not Iron Man,” he said accusingly.

Erika popped her faceplate open. “Yeah, no shit, Dumbass!” She spat. “Aiden, what the hell are you doing? I know you’re stupid, but I didn’t think you were _that_ stupid.”

Aiden recoiled. “ _Erika?”_  His surprise lasted a split second, then his face curled into a nasty sneer. “I thought for sure you’d be hiding in Daddy’s tower.”

Erika narrowed her eyes. “Guess what? I’m Not.” She eyed the stick in his hands. “I don’t know why you’re working with Metal Head, and I don’t really care—just hand over the stick before I use it to beat your ass like a piñata!”

“Careful, you might get hurt—don’t want Daddy’s Little Princess getting scratched up.”

Erika bit back a growl. “Yeah? I could say the same for you, _princess.”_ Her faceplate snapped back closed and she raised her arms, ready to try out the suit’s repulsers.

Aiden switched the staff from hand to hand, and then he pointed the top towards her. She barely dodged the beam of energy that came shooting towards her. She fired her own shot, trying to ignore the recoil from the suit.

Aiden rushed forward, swinging the stick at her, and she raised an arm to stop it. She was more than surprised when she wasn’t able to push him away as easily as she hoped.

Something silver glinted on Aiden’s wrist. It had something carved in it, and it seemed to be pulsing slightly.

“You’re not the only one with upgrades, Sweetie,” Aiden purred. “You can train all you want with those freaks and have Daddy build you a million suits, but at the end of the day, you’re better off staying in your ivory tower.

“Okay, I am so done with you,” Erika spat, and she pulled away from him, which surprised him and almost caused him to topple over. She spun around and snatched Aiden by the collar of his shirt before shooting up into the sky again.

“PUT ME DOWN!” he hollered. “PUT ME DOWN _RIGHT NOW!”_

_“Okay,”_ said Erika, and then she let go.

Aiden screamed like a little girl as he hurtled towards the ground.

“ _Hang on, I got ya,”_ Erika called as she caught him again, pulling him in an upright position. “ _Now then, mind telling me what the deal is with that stick of yours?”_

“None of your business!” Aiden snarled, but whimpered as he was jostled.

“ _I’m going to put you down, and then you’re going to tell me what’s going on. Deal?”_

“ _Aiden, I swear to God I will drop you again!”_

“. . . . . Fine!”

Eika lowered them to the ground. As soon as Aiden’s feet were on the ground, however, he slammed the end of the walking stick on the ground. The ground began to shake and a black hole appeared beneath their feet.

“ _What the—“_ was all Erika managed to choke out before she was sucked into the swirling black vortex along with Aiden.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - -- - - - - -

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le gasp! Black hole of doom! Dun-dun-dun! What’s gonna happen next?


	17. seventeen

**Stark Tower, in another reality**

“ _Hell-o, Manhattan,”_ Tony Stark crowed as he aimed for the newly refurbished Stark Tower’s landing pad. _“It’s actually good to be back. Well, at least until the Malibu house gets rebuilt.”_ The suit was disassembled and stored and he was whistling a little tune as he made his way to the bar in his penthouse. “J.A.R.V.I.S, what are the locations of mi amigos?” he asked his AI.

“ _Master Rogers and Miss Romanov are currently in Washington, D.C. on a classified S.H.I.E.L.D mission, Doctor Banner is in Calcutta, Master Odinson is off planet, and Master Barton’s location is unknown, though I’m sure I can contact him.”_

Tony took a swig of his drink. After the mess he’d just gone through with the Mandarin, he needed it. He took another drink and was about to tell J.A.R.V.I.S to message the others when a loud screeching noise made him almost drop his glass. He looked up and out the window just in time to see a hole rip open in the sky.

“Oh god, not more aliens,” he whined.

Something came shooting out of the hole and it was moving _fast_ towards Stark Tower.

“J.A.R.V.I.S, put the shields up!” Tony barked.

Too late.

Whatever it was came crashing through the window, skidding across the ground and landing across the room.

Tony peeked out from behind the bar and let out a groan. Not only was the window shattered, but there was a crater like one that comets were found in currently gauged into his floor. “Damn it, the Loki crater was just fixed!” he spat irritably, ducking back behind the bar and getting ready to call the suit to him if he needed it.

When he saw what crawled out of the crater, he froze.

Tony watched as what could only be described as a . . . well, a really girly version of his suit clawed its way out, pulling a young man with it. The suit’s hand tightened around the boy and threw him down on the ground. “ _WHAT. THE FUCK. WAS. THAT.”_ It snarled. “ _No, you know what, I don’t even care—I’m still going to beat you like a piñata!”_

The suit let go of him and stood, brushing itself off. “ _Lucky for you, the team’s out dealing with the idiot known as Doom, so you don’t have to deal with them.”_ A pause, then, “ _Oh, look at that—it’s Tony. Maybe you can explain to him why you broke his house.”_

Okay, Tony had had enough. He slid on a spare repulse glove he kept behind the bar and came out from behind it. “Don’t move,” he said firmly. “I don’t know who you are or how you got my suit, but make one more move and I’ll turn it into scrap metal.”

Whoever was in the suit didn’t seem worried. _“Funny_ ,” It—she said. Then, to the boy, she said, “ _Go ahead, Aiden, tell him who you’re working for._

The boy swallowed.

Before he could say anything else, the pink suit’s faceplate snapped open and he was looking at a young woman with blonde and brunette streaked hair and green eyes. “Just really quick, cuz I’m curious—why aren’t you out there dealing with Doom?” she asked.

It took Tony a minute to work out that she was talking to him.

“Honey, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but that suit you’re parading around in is mine, no matter how gaudy it looks in pink. Now hand over the stolen tech and hop right back into that hole you came flying out of.”

She looked at him— _really_ looked at him.

It was kind of creepy, to be honest.

In a flash, she had the boy with her pinned to the wall by his throat. “ ** _WHAT DID YOU DO?”_** she screamed.

The boy flinched. “No-nothing,” he choked. “Did-didn’t do any-thing!”

She slammed him against the wall. “Don’t,” she warned, her voice going dangerously low. “Aiden Matthew Hammer, I swear upon all of the Gods, you tell me what you did to him! _You have three seconds before I rip your tongue out and feed it to you!”_

Tony frowned and moved forward. “Easy there, Mary Shaw,” he said, aiming his glove at the crazy woman in his suit. “Nobody has to get hurt. Put him down, and back away slowly.”

She looked between the boy and him. She huffed, and then lowered the boy to the ground, who immediately made a break for it.

“Oh, no you don’t!” The woman barked, racing after him and pinning him. “The only way you’re leaving here is in handcuffs, Pretty Boy!”

“Get off me!” he yelled, struggling underneath the suit’s weight.

“Hey!” Tony barked. “Seriously, I don’t know who the hell you two are, but I’m calling the cops soon if I don’t get an explaination!”

“Fine,” she huffed, getting up and hauling the boy with her.

“Stop man-handling me!” he snapped.

“What happened to you ‘upgrades,’ smart-ass?” she shot back. “Hammer Tech is shit, I’m not surprised at all.” One of her gauntlets retracted and her bare hand wrapped around his arm. A staticy green light leapt from her hand to his arm and he seized up before going limp, and then she dropped him. The suit opened and she stepped out of it. Her left leg gave out on her and she overbalanced, hitting the ground with a small cry. “Damn it, the bastard damaged it,” she hissed, pulling up the leg of her under armor to show a metal brace encasing a heavily scarred leg.

Tony never took his glove away from where she was. “Alright, Sweetcheeks, we’re gonna try this again—who the hell are you and how did you get my tech?”

The woman didn’t look up.

“Answer me!”

She looked up, and Tony was, for some reason, hit with a pang of guilt for yelling at her.

“I didn’t steal it,” she said in a shaky voice. “You gave it to me. I don’t know what Aiden did, but the last time I talked to you, you and the others were gearing up to face Doombots. You called and told me to head back, but I was stupid and I went after Doom myself. Aiden shot me down, and then he did something with a weird walking stick, and now my leg hurts and my dad is pointing a repuser at me,” she said, her voice cracking at the end. Tears were welling up in her eyes and she looked absolutely pitiful.

Her _dad?_

“I don’t know what weird bizarro reality you dropped out of, but I don’t have any kids,” said Tony uneasily, getting more creeped out by the minute.

Her lower lip trembled and the tears started flowing.

Tony was about to ask her to stop crying, but a few seconds later, he eyes widened and she crawled back towards the crater, ignoring Tony’s insistence that she stay put.

Jeez, this girl’s moods were going to give him whiplash.

She reached down and pulled something out of the crater—an old, twisted walking stick.

“No,” she whispered. “No _way_ is he that stupid,” she breathed, wiping tears from her face.

“Yo, Princess, mind filling in the rest of the class?” Tony said, curiosity winning over hostility—who the hell _was_ this girl?

“So _that’s_ what he did.” The young woman held the walking stick in trembling hands and tried—and failed—to get to her feet. She tried again, leaning heavily on the stick and letting out a small whine. Once she was up, her posture changed—she was still leaning on the stick, but she was standing as tall as she could. She took a deep breath.

“What do you know about the Multiverse Theory?”

“. . . . . I was kidding about the bizarro thing,” he said uneasily, not really up to dealing with a crazy (possibly) alien woman who thought she was from an alternate reality (aliens, after Manhattan, he could believe).

The woman swallowed. “Well, I’m not.”

Tony snorted.

“In 1987, you went to a Stark Industries fundraiser,” she continued. “You met a woman there—a supermodel from Scandinavia.”

Tony frowned. “I met a lot of supermodels in 1987,” he said. “What’s your point?”

She shook her head. “You’d remember this one—tall and pale, with black hair, and green eyes like mine. Her English wasn’t too good, and she wouldn’t go home with you. She gave you her card, and you met up with her the next day.”

Tony tried to remember this supposed Scandinavian model. He got a brief image of almost glowing green eyes, but that was it. “Sorry, doesn’t’ ring a bell.”

The woman kept going. “Fine, maybe . . . . maybe here, you never met her.” She took another deep breath. “My name is Erika Maria Stark. I was born on April 4th, 1990. Lok—My mother left after Christmas in 199—ahh!” her leg buckled and she almost fell over.

“Here, sit down before you fall over,” he said tiredly. “I don’t need the crazy woman being unconscious when the cops get here.”

She paled. “Cops? What? No! No, I swear I’m not crazy! You don’t have to call anyone!”

“Too late, they were notified as soon as you crashed through my window. Right, J.A.R.V.I.S?” he called.

“ _The proper authorities have been notified, as has Director Fury.”_ The AI responded. “ _Shall I place the Tower on Lockdown?”_

The girl—Erika—frowned at the ceiling. “Come _on,_ did you _really_ rat me out? Of course you did, you don’t know me,” she sighed, hobbling over to a couch and flopping down on it, gently laying the walking stick by her feet. “Look—I’m not crazy, alright? Call anyone you want, call Pepper, or Rhodey, or the other Avengers—just please don’t let them arrest me,” she pleaded. “ _Please._ I just need time to work out how to get home, then I’ll just hop on back to my own reality.” She paused. “J.A.R.V.I.S said he let Fury know I’m here—what’s the year?” she asked cautiously.

“. . . . . . 2014.”

Erika’s eves closed. “Shit,” she muttered. “Great—different reality, _and_ a different time. Wonderful. Have you ever heard of a man called Aldrich Killian, by the way?” she asked.

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know about Killian?” he asked suspiciously—Aldrich Killian being the Mandarin wasn’t widespread news; the actor he’d hired had still been called the Mandarin.

“As much as you do.” She said. “I know what he did to you—what he tried to do to Pepper. I know you got rid of your suits for Pepper after she killed Killian.”

Tony was becoming uneasy. “J.A.R.V.I.S, when are the police getting here?” he asked, backing slowly towards his bar—he needed another drink.

“ _Sir, Director Fury has cancelled the call to the authorities and is sending in his own squadron of men; their estimated time of arrival is two minutes.”_

Tony groaned. “Great, just what I need,” he muttered. “Why did you even _tell_ him? You know I don’t like them poking their nose in my business.”

“ _MY protocals are to alert the authorities for normal threats to the Tower and to alert S.H.I.E.L.D of any and all unusual threats. I’d say a woman dropping from the sky is unusual.”_

Tony groaned. “Traitor,” he muttered.

“Tell me about it,” Erika said quietly, narrowing her eyes at the ceiling. “I’m tempted to hack him and give him a hillbilly accent—don’t think I wouldn’t, either, cuz I’ve done it before.”

Tony seriously doubted that and was about to say so, but was cut off by the whine of a S.H.I.E.L.D quinjet. “Well, Princess, this has been fun, but I think it’s time you went with the nice men in suits,” he said to Erika. She glared at him, and he ignored the sudden chill that went up his spine—he hadn’t seen a stare that cold since Thor’s crazy brother had thrown him out of a window.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - --- - - - - - -

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this idea has been in my head since August, and it’s gone through a lot of revision, but I think I’m okay with how it turned out :)


	18. eighteen

“I’m telling you, I’m not crazy!”

“Miss, please, hold still, we need to run te—”

“ ** _Get those needles away from me!_** ”

Agent Maria Hill watched silently behind the observation room’s one-way mirror as S.H.I.E.L.D doctors were trying to catch and restrain the young woman that had been apprehended at Stark Tower. She was moving pretty fast for someone who Stark had claimed was injured.

“She doesn’t seem to be taking this well.”

Maria started and turned around. “I thought you were away with your team,” she said, clearing her throat. Very few people could sneak up on her, but Coulson could probably sneak up on Fury himself.

“They can handle themselves for now,” said Coulson. “Besides, this sounded interesting.”

“The last time you came to see something ‘interesting,’ you were ki—almost killed,” said Maria.

Coulson’s face was as impassive as it always was. “What can I say?” was all he said. “Have you gotten her name?”

Maria inclined her head slightly. “Stark says her name is Erika, and she claims she’s his daughter.”

Coulson’s right eyebrow twitched, which was Coulson for ‘I doubt that.’ He watched the young woman run away from the doctors. One of them caught her by the arm and she bit him. His eyebrow twitched again.

“You wanna try talking her down?” Maria asked. “I tried, but she doesn’t seem to like me.”

Coulson inclined his head and headed for the door to the room. The girl seemed to calm down drastically when she saw him. “Oh, thank god, it’s you,” she breathed. “Please tell these maniacs to back off! I’m not crazy, I don’t want them running any weird tests on me! I swear, I know I sound crazy, but if Fury’s goons would give me, like, five seconds, I can explain _everything!_ ”

“Alright.”

“I just—wait, what?”

“I said, alright. I’ll make sure you’re given a chance to explain yourself, as long as you let the doctors do their job and take your vitals.”

“. . . . . do I have to give blood and pee in a cup?” she asked suspiciously.

“Probably,” he said, motioning for the doctors to stand down.

“. . . . . . If I do, that’s _all_ they do, and I get to talk to Fury afterwards.” It wasn’t phrased as a question.

“Most likely.”

“Ugh,” she groaned. “Fine.” And just like that, she flopped down in the medic chair and put her arm on the arm of the chair. She sat there silently while her blood was drawn, then she was escorted to the bathroom for a urine sample.

Maria frowned at Coulson, who shrugged minutely, as if to say ‘I don’t know why she listened to me.’ “What about the boy?” Coulson asked.

“He had to be sedated,” said Maria, and that was all she said.

 

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - -- - -

Director Fury was a very busy man.

That being said, he was more than a little irritated that his current project was being put on hold for a strange woman claiming to be Tony Stark’s daughter from a parallel universe.

“You do realize how insane you sound, right?” he asked the woman—Erika, she said her name was.

“I know it sounds crazy,” she said. “Believe me, I know. It’s no crazier than real Norse gods dropping out of the sky, though,” she countered. “Or giant space whales with torpedoes strapped to them.”

Fury pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

“Director Fury, _Please_ ,” She pleaded. “I know how it sounds, and I don’t want to change anything that’s supposed to happen here—I really don’t. Me being here is already changing things, though, and they longer I’m here, the worse it will get. Just—let me work with Tony, see if I can find a way back.”

There was something she wasn’t telling him. “Miss . . .”

“Stark.”

“Right. Miss _Stark_ , withholding information won’t do you any favors. If there’s anything you need to tell me, now’s your chance.”

She bit her lower lip. “I don’t know a lot,” she admitted. “Only bits and pieces. Besides, what’s happening here didn’t happen until years in the future for me.” She shook her head. “Anything I tell you wouldn’t change much.”

“Didn’t you say you supposedly lived with the Avengers?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know their life stories. The most I know is Tony’s life, for obvious reasons—the others didn’t really do a lot of sharing.”

Fury was about to say something else when his comm went off. “ _Director, Agents Rogers and Romanov are returning from their mission. Agent Rogers is requesting an audience with you.”_

He sighed. “ _Alright, send him up,”_ he answered. To Tony Stark’s self-proclaimed daughter, he said, “We’re not finished. You go back to Stark Tower, you stay put until further notice. Got it?”

She looked like she wanted to argue, but thought better of it. “Fine.”

 

-          - - - - - - - - - --- - - -- - -

 

“So, what, now I’m just supposed to play babysitter to some whack-a-doodle who’s claiming to be my kid from an alternate reality?” Tony said angrily to the S.H.I.E.L.D agent who dropped Erika back off at his tower.

“The boy will stay with us,” said the agent—a guy named Rumlow. “She stays here, under Fury’s orders.”

“I’m standing right here, you know,” the girl—Erika muttered. She was ignored by Rumlow.

“Yeah, and what if I don’t want her here?” Tony snapped. He ignored how she cringed at that. ‘I don’t know her,’ he thought. ‘I can’t trust her. I will not feel sorry for her.’ “This is MY tower, and I don’t care what Fury or anyone else says, I don’t—”

“What Fury says goes,” said Rumlow, and then he was gone.

Tony sighed irritably and turned to the girl, but she held up her hand. “Look, I get it,” Erika snapped irritably. “You can’t stand me, you want me as far away as possible. Fine. I’ll just go find Dr. Banner, or maybe Thor and his Girlfriend could lend me their couch while I figure this out. I don’t need a five-star hotel, I just need . . . . somewhere. Just somewhere I can work, and a place to charge my batteries once a week,” she said, huffing slightly. “I don’t have anything with me, so I can travel light. I don’t even need a plane.”

Before Tony could say anything, she vanished-VANISHED-and reappeared behind him. “I do need one thing from you, though,” she said, and Tony spun around.

She patted her leg. “I need some tools for a patch job, and I need anything J.A.R.V.I.S can pull up on the Yggdrasil Staff.

Tony blinked. “Um . . . . .”

“I swear, I’ll stay out of your hair. I just need to borrow a lab real quick.”

He sighed heavily. “Fine.”

 

 

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - -- - - -- - - -- -

 

 

Tony was watching her work on her brace, and he was . . . . . mildly impressed. She knew her way around the lab well enough and she seemed to know what she was doing.

“I wouldn’t trust Rumlow.”

Tony blinked, surprised. “What? Who, Fury’s grunt? He’s harmless.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” she breathed—she had to be careful what she said. “I wouldn’t trust S.H.I.E.L.D at all, really.”

“O-kayyy, that’s not suspicious at all.”

“Just sayin.’”

 

 

-          - - - - - - - --  - -- - - - - -- -

 

 

The energy readings from the stick—the Yggdrasil Staff—was off the charts.

“You gonna tell me how you did your little disappearing act?” he asked when there was a lull in the data—she’d disappeared and reappeared across the lab, grabbed something, then returned to the side of the lab where they were studying the Staff.

She rolled her eyes. “Magic,” was all she said, waving a hand. Tony’s coffee cup disappeared and reappeared in her hand. She smirked and took a sip. “Runs in my mother’s side,” she said, and then she returned the cup.

Tony shook his head. “Yeah, sure,” he muttered, frowning at the returned cup – now he’d have to get a fresh cup.

 

 

 

-          - - - - - - -- - - - -- - -- -

 

 

Fury was dead.

S.H.I.E.L.D was gone

HYDRA was alive and kicking.

Tony learned all of this when Steve Rogers stopped by the Tower, on his way to find the Winter Soldier.

The first thing Tony did was corner Erika in the kitchen.

“You knew,” he accused. “You knew and you didn’t say anything. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Erika did her vanishing act and reappeared on top of the fridge, out of his reach. “Cool it!” she snapped. “I didn’t know if things were the same, I couldn’t risk changing anything!”

“Says the girl who crashed through here from a portal!”

Steve followed him into the kitchen. “Who’s this?” he asked, looking up at her. “How did she get up there?”

“Look, if I said anything I would have screwed up the timeline, or something, okay? Besides, I didn’t know everything!”

Steve’s jaw clenched. “Tony, who is she?”

“Some whackjob who claims she’s my daughter from an alternate universe,” said Tony. To Erika, he said “Hey, if you really are my kid, then you have to listen to me!”

“I don’t have to do jack shit!” she spat back. “Being my father doesn’t give you the right to be an ass!”

Steve looked from Tony to Erika. “You have a daughter?”

“No!” Tony yelled at the same time Erika said “Yep!”

“Hey Cap,” she chirped. To Tony, she said, “Can I come down now, or am I gonna get another interrogation?”

Tony said nothing, so Erika teleported down, which made Steve jump slightly. “Not used to Magic, I take it,” she asked dryly.

“Not really, no.”

“Oww, cramp,” Erika whined.

“Well I’m not the one who stuck you up there, am I?” said Tony

“And you’re not the one who got me down,” she muttered darkly.

“Well, she’s certainly got your mouth,” said Steve, which earned him dirty looks from both of them.

 


	19. nineteen

It had been two weeks of pure hell. Erika and Tony had been at each other’s throats since Fury said she would stay at Stark Tower. Tony had argued after Steve’s visit that since S.H.I.E.L.D was out of commission, Fury’s orders were obsolete.

He was going to send her away (really), but one thing stopped him.

Okay, two things.

Thing number one was guilt – if she was telling the truth, then she really would have to crash on a park bench or something if he kicked her out, and that didn’t sit well with him.

Thing number two happened to be Pepper, who had come to New York not long after Erika’s mysterious appearance. His girlfriend took an immediate liking to his supposed daughter, and it seemed the feeling was mutual. Erika _adored_ Pepper, and she used the redhead to gain as much sympathy as she could.

Sneaky little brat.

. . . . .

Huh. Maybe she _was_ his.

 

-          - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - -- - - - -

 

 “I’m gonna kill him,” Erika muttered darkly as she sat up in the guest room she was using. Try as she might to get along with Tony, it was hard, and he wasn’t making it any easier.

Why was it so hard to get along with this world’s Tony?

She was tired and irritated, and she wanted to go home.

She wanted her family.

An idea crept up on her and she cleared a space on the bed before laying down, taking deep breaths and trying to will herself into a deep sleep.

 

-          - - - - -- - - - -- - - -

 

_The island Erika stood on looked even more barren and desolate than she remembered. The waters around it were deadly still, a stark contrast to her first memories of this place._

_Well, no use beating around the bush._

_“Jormungand!” Erika called, her voice unnaturally loud in the silence. “Jormungandr Lokison, I need you! I’m going to sound crazy, but I need you to hear me out!”_

_“Please, Jormungand! Please come out!”_

_Erika waited for what felt like forever._

_“Jor, get your big scaly butt out here! This is important!”_

_She turned around and came face to face with her half-brother’s human form. Before a sound could leave her, he had her hoisted up by her throat._

_“You called,” he said dryly. “I came. Tell me why you’re here before I squeeze the life out of you.”_

_“ . . . .put . . . . me . . . . down,” Erika choked. “Please.”_

_Jormungand dropped her and she fell to her knees, coughing. “Jesus, Jor,” she wheezed. “Hi to you, too.”_

_“Stop wasting my time,” he warned._

_“Yeah, cuz you’re **so** busy,” she muttered._

_“Don’t test me, Mortal,” Jormungand growled._

_Erika looked up at him and felt . . . . unsettled. This wasn’t her Jormungand, with his shorter hair and warm eyes. This was the Jormungand she had met when her spirit had first started travelling in her sleep. He seemed colder than the one she had met all those years ago, and she suddenly felt nervous. “Um. Okay.” She stood up. “My name is Erika. I’m your sister—half-sister—from an alternate universe.”_

_He didn’t seem impressed with this news, so she pressed on._

_“I’m stuck here, and I think I can get back home if I get a magic charge strong enough—you and Fenrir could boost the Yggdrasil Staff’s signal enough for me to make a portal home.”_

_Jormungand snorted. “That mutt couldn’t give off a magic signature if he tried,” he spat. “Even if he wasn’t chained beneath Asgard, and Even if I wasn’t stuck in these gods forsaken waters, why would we help you?”_

_Erika hesitated. “I can get you out.”_

_Jormungand looked skeptical._

_“No, really,” she pushed. “You—that is, the other Jormungand, the one from my universe, taught me how he escaped. He said he was able to do it by drawing from my seidir. I could do the spell and set you both free.”_

_Jormungand’s eyes narrowed. “You can free me?”_

_Erika nodded._

_Jormungand stooped to her level and gave her a smile that reminded her of something very dangerous. “Well, then, Little Sister, best get moving.”_

-          _\- - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - --_

_“What do you know of Ragnarok?’_

_“Hmm?” Erika looked up from the spell book she’d found in Loki’s library. “Oh. Um, not much. Why?”_

_Jormungand tilted his head. “Interesting. You mentioned another world’s version of me was freed from his prison.”_

_“Yep. Free to roam the world, though you’ve kind of made your home in Manhattan. You have a son named Erik and you just married his dad.” She wasn’t sure why she was telling him this—he wasn’t the same Jormungand. That was probably why—he’d never meet Steve and have Erik. The thought of her nephew not existing made her sad, so she changed the subject. “Where will you go when you’re free?”_

_“Anywhere but here,” Jormungand murmured. “Maybe I’ll go home.”_

_Erika looked up. “What, to Asgard? Jor, you can’t go back.” Jormungand gave her a look. “I know about Ranhal. Odin kicked you out, and my Jor has been home a few times, but only for a little bit.”_

_Jormungand seemed to tense. “What do you know of Ranhal?” he asked cautiously._

_“I know you liked him,” she said quietly, not looking at him. “I know you told him as much, and he didn’t take it well. I know he beat you and told Odin you started a fight, so Odin kicked you out.” She looked up at him. “You should meet one of my dad’s friends when you’re free—the other you met him, and he helped you move on.”_

_“Is this the same man I marry?” asked Jormungand._

_Erika nodded. “Steve’s good for you. Maybe you can win him over here, too.”_

_Jormungand ‘hmm’d, but said nothing else, and Erika went back to researching the spell she’d have to cast to set him free._

-          _\- - - - - -- - - -- - -- -_

 

Erika had been quiet lately.

It was starting to freak Tony out a little bit.

“Seriously, I can’t get rid of you and now you won’t come out,” he said when she came out of the guest room. “What’s the deal?”

“You’re really complaining about not seeing someone you hate?” she asked. “Wow.”

Tony cringed. “I don’t hate you,” he said defensively.

She paused on her way past him and gave him a look.

“I don’t,” he insisted. “I just . . . . look, someone drops out of the sky and says she’s my kid, that’s gonna put me on edge.” He sighed. “I don’t hate you. I just don’t know you.”

Erika dipped her head forward. Tony’s next question made her raise it again and meet Tony’s gaze.

“Am I a good dad?”

Erika swallowed.

“My dad wasn’t too great,” Tony continued awkwardly. “I’m hoping I did a little better, though I can’t even take care of a chia pet—how am I supposed to raise a kid?”

Erika swallowed again and blinked back tears. “Don’t worry,” she said in a shaky voice that broke when she started crying. “You’re a really great dad.”

Whoa, okay crying woman in his kitchen, what should he do? “Uh, jeez, please stop crying,” he muttered. “I’m horrible with crying women.”

Erika hiccupped and made a sound between a sob and a laugh. “Some things never change, I guess,” she sniffed. “Sorry. I just . . . . . miss him.”

Erika had told him that she just needed a power boost to get her and Aiden home (“Though I wouldn’t mind leaving him here,” she’d said) and had told him she had a plan to get the required energy. She’d then proceeded to lock herself in the guest room and, according to J.A.R.V.I.S, go to sleep.

“He’s good to you, though, right?” Tony asked again.

Erika nodded. “Yeah. It was hard when Mom left, and we had our rough patches, but we managed to pull through. You’d bring home all these women, both of you drunk off your asses, and I’d do my best to get rid of them. Shit really went south when I was sixteen, but things got better after . . . .” She trailed off and tapped on her chest where the arc reactor had been on Tony. “You came home, and I had my dad back.” She sniffed again. “Sorry, I don’t mean to unload on you—it’s not your problem.” She turned to go back to the guest rom.

“Hey.”

She stopped and turned back around.

Tony rubbed the back of his neck. “So, you seem like an okay kid, and if I ever do have kids, I guess it wouldn’t hurt if they were like you.”

Erika gave him a weak smile. “Thanks . . . I think.”

 

 

-          - - - - - - -- - - - - - -- -

 

 

_Erika stood in front of Fenrir’s cage and studied the chains blocking the entrance to the cave. She could just make out a howling, snarling mass of dark fur beyond the chains._

_“Wow, take a chill pill,” she muttered. The wolf glared at her and snarled._

_Erika put a hand on the chains. She’d already told Fenrir that she was his sister, and that she was planning on breaking him out. He’d been even more restless ever since._

_“Don’t worry, Fen,” she murmured. “I’ll get you out.”_

-          _\- - - - - - - - - -- - - - - -_

 

Erika had a hard copy of Loki’s book, which was how she’d had a copy with her in her visits to Jormungand. She was pouring over it, reading and rereading the parts of the spell she still hadn’t memorized.

The spell wasn’t what was hard to memorize—it was the ritual. She had to draw something in blood on a rock on Jormungand’s island, and then she had to supercharge the blood drawing and say the spell; the only problem was she had to say it in Old Norse.

A knock on her door made her call out “Yeah?”

Tony poked his head in the door. “Uh, hey. You, uh, you hungry, or something?”

Erika was about to say ‘not really,’ but her stomach gurgled loudly. Okay then. “Uh, yeah, Guess I am.”

“Great, I had J.A.R.V.I.S order takeout,” said Tony, and then he was gone.

Erika sighed and bookmarked her place before shutting the book and rolling up into a sitting position. She popped her back and stretched her arms out above her head.

A quick break couldn’t hurt.

“Hey,” he greeted her. “So, I think I remembered what you like, but just incase I didn’t, I got a little of everything. Chinese is okay, right?”

Erika let out a low whistle as she surveyed the amount of Chinese takeout cartons sitting on the kitchen table. “Yeah, Chinese sounds good. Is Pepper gonna help us eat all this?”

“Ah, no. She had to go back to Malibu.”

“Oh. Sorry. The long distance thing must suck.”

Tony shrugged. “It’s no big deal – she comes around when she can, but being a CEO is hard work. I’ll take whatever she can give me.”

Erika resisted the urge to let out an ‘aww, how sweet.’ This world’s Tony never had Loki, so he didn’t have anyone else taking up space in his heart. He was giving Pepper everything he had and she was giving back as much as she could, and Erika hoped that things stayed okay between them.

Dinner turned into a movie night, and they ended up watching Jurassic Park while eating Chinese takeout. It was so familiar to Erika that she let a “Night, Dad,” slip out when the movie was over. When she realized what she’d said, she looked horrified. “Oh God, I am so sorry,” she said quickly, but Tony just waved her off awkwardly.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I get it—you miss him. I shouldn’t have had you come down.”

He looked like he thought he was the worst person in existence, so Erika did what she would have done with her Tony—she hugged him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just noticed how often I have Erika hugging people . . . . . . . .


	20. twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These losers aren’t mine, they’re Marvel’s
> 
> Alright, here’s where things pick up a little bit

 

-          - - - - - - -- - - - --

 

‘This is it,’ Erika though as she stood on the shore of Jormungand’s island—no trick, no dream travel; she was really there. The waters were churning violently—Jormungand was growing impatient.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist!” Erika shouted, setting down her bag and the Yggdrasil Staff—she’d bound herself to Aiden, so when she was ready she could summon him; she planned on unbinding them the second they were home. “Okay, free Jor, free Fen, then go home,” she said, pulling out a dagger from her bag. The dagger was wrapped in a cloth and she unwrapped it, wiping blood from it—she’d had to draw symbols in blood in front of Fenrir’s cage first.

Erika grit her teeth and made a fresh cut on her arm, then let blood drip down into a bowl. Her blood was important—her relation to Jor was needed to break the spells holding him, he had said.

Which made NO sense, since Odin wasn’t his blood and hadn’t used any blood magics to bind him to the ocean, but whatever.

She took a deep, calming breath, watching her blood drip into the shallow bowl. When she had enough, she healed the cut and began painting runes onto a large flat rock. When the last rune was painted, she set the bowl down and began reciting the spell she’d learned.

About halfway through, the ground started to shake.

“Uh, should I stop?” Erika called.

_KEEP GOING!_

Erika winced at the volume of her brother’s mental shout and cringed slightly when an enormous serpent broke through the churning waves, shrieking towards the sky.

“Drama queen,” Erika muttered, then she resumed her spellcasting.

The end of the spell was almost anticlimactic. Jormungand sank back beneath the waves. The ground stopped shaking and the waves calmed. Then, a bright green light, like a comet, shot from the waters and arced over the island, landing with a ground-shaking THUD.

Erika coughed as dust swirled around her. “Did it work?” She called, crawling over to the crater that the comet’s landing had caused.

There, kneeling in the middle of the crater, was a human shaped Jormungand in all his leather and armor glory. He was breathing heavily and he looked slightly dazed.

“It worked?” he asked himself quietly. Louder, then, he said. “It worked.”

Erika slid down the side of the crater. “Told you I could do it,” she said proudly. “I don’t know how you did it in the other world, though, if this was the only way to free you. Hmm. He must have had another spell memorized, or something. I know he borrowed my siedir without me knowing, and whatever he did worked. This worked, too, so, you know, yay.”

Jormungand stood quietly, and the dust seemed to evaporate from his clothes and body.

It was weird seeing him with long hair again, and Erika was about to say so, when something akin to shrieking filled her mind. She yelled in pain and clamped her hands over her ears.

Whatever it was, Jormungand didn’t seem to hear it. No, wait—he heard it, but it didn’t bother him. “Cease your crying, you worthless mutt!” he snapped. “Do what you were destined to do—tear that old wretch’s head from his shoulders!”

The shrieking stopped and Erika was left with a pounding headache. “What the Hel was that?” she asked.

“That,” said Jormungand nonchalantly. “Was my idiot brother being freed from his prison and protesting the commands I carved into his mind before my banishment.”

Erika just stared at him. “Eh?”

Jormungand still looked carefree. “Oh, did I not mention my brother is bound by magic to kill Odin upon his release? Silly me.”

She gaped.

“I suppose I also forgot to mention that my freedom means the beginning of Ragnarok—the beginning of the End of all things, that was Odin’s exact wording. He’ll be dead soon, though, so I need not fear imprisonment again.”

Before Erika could move, Jormungand had her up in the air again by her throat. “I suppose I should thank you, _Little Sister_ ,” he sneered, and Erika felt tears stinging her eyes.

“What are you doing?” she choked.

Jormungand gave her a smile that promised death, his too sharp teeth gleaming. “Oh, just a bit of fun, really. Tell me something—would you have freed me if you had known I had killed Ranhal?”

Erika felt what little blood in her drain from her face.

“He wouldn’t give me what I wanted. I beat him to within an inch of his miserable life, and then I took what I wanted.” He grinned again and said, “Then I ate him,” and Erika felt sick.

“Goodbye, _Little Sister_ ,” Jormungand hissed. “It was _wonderful_ meeting you.”

Erika didn’t think—she teleported out of his grip to where the Yggdrasil Staff lay, grabbed it, and then she teleported away from the island.

She appeared in Tony’s workshop and promptly fainted.

 

 

 

-          - - - - - - - -- - - - -- - -- -- - -

 

 

 

Erika woke up with a pounding headache. She moaned and raised her hand to her head. “Ow,” she mumbled.

“Whoa, easy Kiddo, you bumped your head pretty hard.”

Erika’s eyes snapped open and she sat up quickly, looking at Tony. “You called me Kiddo,” she murmured. “Daddy?” she asked hopefully.

The look he gave her made her hopes that this had all been a dream crash and burn. “Ah, sorry—is that something he calls you?” Tony asked quietly.

Erika felt tears well up in her eyes. “Yeah,” she said, her throat suddenly dry. “He always calls me Kiddo.”

“Ah, shit,” Tony muttered. “Erika, I’m sorry—I didn’t know.”

Erika sniffed and willed herself not to cry. “It’s fine,” she mumbled miserably. She suddenly realized that she had no memory of going back to the Tower. “How did I get here?”

Tony waved his arm. “Teleported, or whatever you call it,” he said. “You just showed up in my lab, holding that stick, then you passed out and cracked your head pretty good on my workshop floor. What were you—whoa, what’s wrong?”

Erika had started shaking. “Oh, Gods,” she said quietly. “What have I done?” She started crying, quietly at first but soon she was sobbing. “I fucked up,” she sobbed. “I just—wanted my brother. I wanted to go home. I didn’t think—I fucked up!”

Tony sat and the edge of the bed and (very awkwardly) reached an arm around her. “Hey, hey it’s okay. It’s okay, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I let him out,” Erika cried. “I didn’t think he’d be any different, and I let him out.”

“Let who out? What did you do?”

Erika sat there and cried for several long minutes, not answering Tony’s question. Finally, she answered.

“I think . . . I think I started the apocalypse.”

 

 

-          - - - -- - - -- - -- - - -- -

 

Loki was currently holding an audience in the guise of Odin with a member of Odin’s guard when a huge black wolf came crashing into the throne room. It took all of Loki’s will not to let his guise drop, and in Odin’s voice he called for his guards.

“How did you get out?” Loki mused quietly, watching the guards try and subdue the wolf. They couldn’t, though, and soon the wolf was charging for him. It stopped just before it got to him, though, panting heavily, and sniffed him. It whined as its body convulsed, and then it spun away and ran from the room.

“After it!” Loki called. “Don’t let it get away!”

If Fenrir found the real Odin before the guards could stop him, then Loki’s ruse would be over.

“Jormungand, what have you done?” Loki muttered, rubbing his temples before dropping his glamour and teleporting to where Odin lay hidden, under a deep forced Odinsleep.

 

 

-          - - - - - - --  - - - --

 

Jormungand looked around the busy streets of Manhattan, hidden from prying eyes by a cloaking spell. ‘So this is where my pathetic doppleganger decided to settle,’ he thought. ‘Surrounded by mortals, and bound to one in matrimony, at that.’ He looked up at Stark Tower and briefly debated whether or not to visit his newly found sister. He decided against it, and opened a pathway to the roots of Yggdrasil.

It was time he pay a visit to dear Hela.

He was not quite as welcomed in his Sister’s realm as he’d hoped.

“For Odin’s sake, Hela, call them off,” Jormungand sighed as Hela’s guard had him at sword point. “I only came to talk.”

“I have no interest in what you have to say, _höggormurinn,”_ Hela spat, glaring at Jormungand from her throne.

“And I have no desire to be here longer than necessary _, líkið,”_ Jormungand spat back just as nastily.

Hela’s living flesh reddened in anger. “ _Kill him,”_ she ordered.

“ _We have a deal!”_ Jormungand hissed. “ _You swore an oath to me!”_

“ _You tricked me!”_ Hela screamed. “ _I have no desire to participate in your End of Days!”_

_“As the mortals would say, ‘too bad.’”_

Hela was fuming, but she gave her guards the order to stand down. “How did you escape?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Jormungand smiled, showing off gleaming pointed teeth. “Oh, you’re going to _love_ this story.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the whole ‘evil siblings’ thing came to be while my friend and I were swimming back in August. I was bouncing off alternate reality ideas and the idea that Jor might be a little shit in another universe popped up, so I rolled with it.
> 
> Marvel isn’t mine, Erika is, her siblings are and are not mine.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - -

 

 

No matter how many times Tony tried to calm Erika down, she kept freaking herself out and chanting “I fucked up,” over and over again.

“Come on, this guy can’t be that bad,” said Tony.

Erika gave him a disgusted look. “He beat someone, raped them, and then _ate_ them!”

“ . . . . Ick. Okay, so we’re dealing with a magical fucked up Hannibal. Great.”

Erika groaned. “Ugh, so much for the Butterfly Effect,” she whined. “The world’s gonna end and it’s my fault!”

“Well, how do you stop it?”

“I don’t know!” Erika snapped. “I mean, I could try imprisoning him again, but it took Odin to bind him and—wait.” She stopped mid-sentence. “That’s it! Yeah, I’ll have to own up to fucking up and freeing him in the first place, but if Odin can put him back in the ocean . . . . . . I gotta go!” she said, and then she was gone.

The throne room she teleported to was empty.

“Damn, where’s the One-Eyed pain when you need him?” she muttered.

“Talking to oneself is a sign of madness,” said a deep voice from behind her.

Oh. There he was.

Erika spun around and, as much as it pained her to do so, dropped to one knee and put her fist over her heart. “Odin Allfather, I beg of you, I need your guidance.”

Odin studied her. “And why should I lend you my guidance?”

Erika swallowed. “I did something terrible. I freed the World Serpent, and now I think he’s going to end the world.” She looked up. “I didn’t know about Ragnarok, I swear—I never would have freed him if I’d have known how awful a person he was.”

“The World Serpent is not a person,” Odin began. “He is a monster, bathed in the blood of the Nine Realms. He went on a rampage throughout each realm, taking hundreds of thousands of innocent lives.” He moved past her and sat heavily on his throne. “My younger son’s second eldest was a beast. His mother pleaded for his life, so instead of killing Jormungand I banished him to Midgard, cursed to bite his own tail until Ragnarok. Only his blood could have broken those spells. I ask you this—who are you?”

Erika swallowed again and stood up on shaky legs. She took a deep breath and straightened as much as she could (her leg didn’t like the whole ‘kneeling’ thing and was now protesting). “You might not believe me,” she said.

Odin gave her a humorless smile. “Try me.”

‘Okay, then,’ she thought, taking another deep breath.

“I’m his sister.”

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

At first, Loki could not believe his ears.

Here was a woman—clearly a mortal—believing herself to be his monstrous son’s sister.

“Jormungand has but one sister in this world, and she resides in Helheim,” said Loki, still using Odin’s form.

The woman bit her lower lip. “That’s the thing—I’m not from this world. I’m from a different reality. Jormungand, Fenrir, Sleipnir and Hela are my half-siblings in that world. Also, I would like to point out that in my world, Jormungand never killed anyone, and his banishment was undeserved and happened after he was abused by one of your guards.”

Loki’s face remained impassive, though his mind was whirring like the gears of a clock. “Who is your father?” he asked, already knowing the answer she would give.

She bit her lower lip again—a bad habit, apparently. “Ever heard of Tony Stark?” she asked hesitantly. “Thor calls him the Man of Iron, though the suit’s technically a gold-titanium alloy.”

That . . . . was not the answer Loki had prepared himself for. “This Son of Stark is your father. What is your full name?”

“Erika Maria Stark-Lokadottir,” she answered confidently. “I guess that makes you my grandfather.”

Loki was tempted to drop his illusion, but he held onto it. “I suppose so, Erika Maria Stark Lokadottir. So, my son had a child with a mortal. Interesting.”

Erika blushed heavily. “Okay, _so_ not why I came here,” she said. “I need you to put Jormungand back in the ocean. No Jormungand, no Ragnarok—right?”

Loki shook his head. “I will revisit my mages and have a spell ready that will banish Jormungand back to the ocean. You freed him, though, so you must cast it, and before I do, you must prove to me that you are worthy.”

Erika paled.

“There is a cave along the furthest southern edge of Asgard, and in that cave there is a mountain of treasure. In that mountain, there is a ring. Find the ring, and bring it to me. You will know which one when you find it.”

Erika opened her mouth, then shut it. “Alrighty, then,” she muttered, and then she bowed hastily and retreated from the room.

Loki was left to ponder exactly who this child was. If she accomplished her task, he would help her and banish his son back to the ocean, but only because he was not ready for the End of Days—there was far too much fun to be had, after all, especially with a new player on the board.

Besides, Jormungand had been trapped on Midgard for centuries – it wouldn’t hurt to let his son have a little fun before he had to go back.

 

 

-          - - -- - - -- - -- - - - -- - -

 

Erika was worried she wouldn’t be able to find the cave, or that she wouldn’t be able to find the ring if she even found the cave.

She didn’t have to worry about that.

No, what she had to worry about was the _dragon guarding the treasure_.

“You gotta draw the line somewhere, you gotta look inside yourself and ask, What am I willing to put up with today? _Not. Fucking. This._ ” She muttered angrily while hiding from said dragon behind a boulder outside the cave. She waited for what seemed like hours, waiting for a sign that she could safely enter without being served up extra crispy.

Everything sounded calm, so she peeked around the corner.

No dragon in sight.

“Okay, get the ring, get out. Get the ring, get out,” she chanted to herself, and then moved as quickly and quietly as possible until she was behind a pile of treasure. She scanned the pile, but nothing stood out, so she moved to a different pile. “Okay, ring, ring, where’s the ring, where’s the ring. Not it, not it, not – oh, is this it?”

A silver ring with a single blue stone stood out from the rest of the gold and jewels. Erika picked it up and turned it over in her palm.

This one . . . . felt different. It felt like it wanted to go with her.

Erika was so focused on the ring she didn’t even heard the dragon coming closer to where she was until she heard a low rumbling growl.

_“Who dares steal from me?”_

Erika’s eyes widened. “Shit.” Thinking fast, she stood up slowly. “I need this,” she said without preamble. “I can’t explain why, I just need it. I’ll trade for it.”

The dragon snorted. _“What does a human have to offer me?”_

Shit. What _did_ she have? “Uhmmm . . . oh! How about this?” She reached down the front of her shirt and pulled out a medallion with two snakes woven together making an S on it.

The dragon’s eyes narrowed. “ _Where did you get that?”_ it demanded.

Erika swallowed nervously. “My mother gave it to me. She said it was one-of-a-kind.”

_“That medallion has the Trickster’s seal – if your mother obtained it, she did so by peeling it from his corpse.”_

Okay, _ew._

“ _The news is true, then – the Trickster died in the realm of the Dark Elves?”_

“Yep.” Not a lie—Loki was technically clinically dead for about five minutes while his body healed himself. “So, trade? Your ring for my medal?”

_“. . . Agreed.”_

“Sweet. Here ya go,” she tossed the medallion towards the dragon. “Thanks a lot, gotta go!” She teleported away before the dragon could change its mind.

Later, as she presented the ring to Odin, he watched her with a critical gaze. “I saw what you did – you gave up your parent’s heirloom. Did it mean so little to you?”

Erika scoffed. “Oh, what, this?” She pulled the medallion she’d supposedly left in the cave out from underneath her shirt. “Yeah, like I’d really just give this away. Man, that dragon’s gonna be pissed when they find out I gave them a fake.”

Odin said nothing. He turned the small ring over in his hand, studying it.

“What’s so important about that?” Erika asked.

“It belonged to the queen. After her death, her treasures were stolen and sold off amongst thieves. They were all recovered, save for this one.” Odin fixed his one eye on Erika again. “You have done me a service, Erika Maria Stark-Lokadottir, and in return, I shall help you bind the World Serpent to the oceans once again. You need not stay here -- –I’m sure your Father worries for you.”

Erika nodded, turned to leave, but then stopped herself. She turned back to Odin and gave him a hasty little bow, and then she left.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Loki held his mother’s ring tightly in a closed fist, memories of Frigga flooding his mind. This ring was all he had left of her. Her other treasures were all secured in a vault and they meant little to him. This, though, this meant something.

He’d given her this ring as a present when he was a boy, and she’d worn it until her death. A servant that helped ready her body for her pyre probably took it, but from there he didn’t know how it had come to be in the dragon’s possession, nor did he care.

All that mattered was that he had it now, and he was never letting it out of his sight again.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dragon was a change I made after seeing a trailer for Desolation of Smaug, and the fact that she was looking for a ring is pure coincidence. I hope it’s not too dumb.


	22. twenty two

Erika found her way back to Stark Tower and reassured Tony that she was okay and that he didn’t need to call in reinforcements—she had it under control.

“Yeah, well, it’s kind of too late,” said Tony. “The others will be here in a few days to help get rid of this nutjob.”

Erika paled. “Da—Tony, _no_ ,” she said. “This guy is dangerous—I think it’s gonna take more than the Avengers to bring him down. Call them off—Odin’s going to give me a spell that will bind him again.”

Tony frowned. “Why can’t you just use that book you’ve been carrying around?”

Erika blushed and looked down at her feet. “I may or may not have lost it,” she admitted.

Tony patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry—we brought Loki down, we can handle his whack-a-doodle cannibal son.”

Erika wasn’t so sure about that, but she didn’t argue. This man wasn’t her dad, but he was still Tony Stark—he was too stubborn to back down.

 

-          - - - - - - - -- - - -- - - -

 

 

Steve, Sam, and an extremely jumpy Bucky were the first to arrive. Introductions were made between Tony and Erika and Steve’s new-and old-friends.

“So _you’re_ the magic lady,” said Sam to Erika.

“Yup,” said Erika. “I think I’ll cool it on the teleporting with Mister Soviet over here,” she said, giving Bucky a cheerful smile.

Bucky just gave her a funny look and muttered something in Russian that sounded suspiciously like ‘this woman is crazy.’

“I’m a Stark—crazy runs in the family,” Erika said back, not afraid to let him know she could understand him. She’d lived with Bucky—she wasn’t scared of him.

Of course, she’d also lived with Jormungand, and right now she was pretty damn scared of him.

 

-          - - - - - - - - -- - - - -

 

 

Dr. Banner arrived a day after Steve and Company.

“Bruce, this is Erika. Erika, this is Dr. Bruce Banner,” Tony introduced. “I’m assuming you already know him due to weird timey-wimey reasons, but as you don’t technically exist, he doesn’t know you.” To Bruce he said, “Erika is my supposed daughter from an alternate reality,” which only earned him an “Ah,” from Bruce.

“Ah,” Tony deadpanned. “Ah? I spring the Multiverse Theory in your face, and all I get is ‘ah?!’”

Bruce was trying not to laugh. “Tony, I turn into a hulking green creature when I lose my temper and we know a Norse God—this isn’t a far reach for me. Besides, she has your nose,” he added kindly.

Erika beamed.

-          - - - - -- - - - - -- -- - - -- - - -

 

 

Natasha came later that day with Clint in tow. Natasha was a little skeptical of the whole ‘alternate worlds’ thing, but Clint seemed to accept it easily enough.

“So, head count,” said Tony. “Steve and two Plus One’s, Katniss and Spy Girl, and our friendly neighborhood rage monster.” A pause. “Anyone seen Point Break?”

At that moment, the sky darkened and a clap of thunder rolled through the air.

“Is he a big blond muscled man in a red cape?” asked Sam.

“Yeah, that’s him.”

Sam pointed to the balcony, where the Almighty Thor stood, red cape and all.

“Oh. Okay, then.”

The first words out of Thor’s mouth were not greetings for his fellow comrades. They were, in fact, “Where is she?” which confused all present.

“The woman who freed the Midgard Serpent,” Thor clarified. “Where is she?”

‘Ah, shit,’ thought Erika, because Thor did not look happy. “Before you chew me out, can I just say I’ve already talked to your dad, and he’s going to try and help fix it?” she asked meekly, fighting the urge to step behind Tony.

Thor still didn’t look happy. “What on all of the Nine Realms made you think freeing that _monster_ was a good idea? Have you any idea the chaos he has already created since he has regained his freedom? News of Ragnarok has spread through the Realms, and everyone is panicking.”

“Hey, Goldilocks, I said I was sorry,” Erika snapped. “You don’t think I know how scared people are? I was around the guy for five minutes and I thought I was going to piss myself!”

Thor’s look of anger turned to one of confusion. “Then why did you free him?”

Erika sighed. “Look, I’m from a different reality, and I live with you guys—plus Loki’s children. Jormungand, Fenrir, Hela, and Sleipnir earned their freedom and live with us at Stark Tower. The Jormungand I knew was wrongly accused of crimes he didn’t commit. Hela was sentenced to life in Helheim because of how she looked, and Fenrir’s big mouth and bad temper got him locked away in a cave. Where I’m from, these guys aren’t evil douchebags or mindless killing machines—they’re my family.” She swallowed. “When I got here, Tony was the same. Director Fury was the same. As far as I could tell, everything was the same, except for the fact that here, I don’t exist.” She paused. “My Jormungand is the closest thing to a brother I have, and I just though . . . . . .” she trailed off.

It was a low blow and everyone knew it, but it worked. Thor’s anger seemed to melt away and something akin to pity shone in his big blue eyes. “You just wanted to be with your brother,” he said softly.

Erika nodded and looked up, tears shining in her eyes.

“I cannot fault you for that,” said Thor wearily. “If you know me, then you know that Loki is my younger brother. We are not brothers by blood, but he is—he was family. Losing him was one of the greatest pains I’ve ever known, and I would do anything to have him back”

Erika had never felt particularly close to Thor, but at that moment she realized maybe they were more alike than she thought.

 

 

 

-  - - - - - -- - -- -- - -- - -- -- - -

 

 

 

The world was falling apart.

Earthquakes, tornadoes, tsunamis, hurricanes, you name it—there was a mess wherever you stepped.

Everyone agreed—it was the end of the world.

The Avengers were learning to work together again, helping with rescue work when an earthquake hit Manhattan.

Erika had gone back to the island to look for the book. She’d found it, but the pages she needed had been torn to pieces. She’d gone back to Stark Tower in a bad mood but had cheered up when Dr. Banner asked for her help in one of the experiments he was running.

“So, you’re Tony’s daughter,” said Dr. Banner.

“Yep.”

“I can see the resemblance.”

Erika grinned. “I know—I have his nose,” she said proudly, repeating his words upon first meeting her.

Throughout her life, people had only paid attention to her height and her eyes—they’d never bothered to notice that she shared more features with Tony than she did with her mother.

“So you said your world is the same,” said Dr. Banner.

“For the most part,” said Erika. “Things seem to be progressing faster here—at home, all you guys stayed together for a while, then split up for a couple years. It’s 2014 here and the Mandarin, the Dark Elves, and Steve finding Bucky have already happened.”

“So you’re from the future as well as a different universe,” said Dr. Banner, looking from one screen display to another, as if this occurred every day.

“Yeah, almost a decade in the future, in fact,” said Erika. “Jor’s got a son that’s going to be turning four soon.”

Dr. Banner blinked. “Jormungand has a son?” he asked, turning to her.

Erika nodded. “Yeah. His name’s Erik, and he’s a sweetheart. I’ve kind of spoiled him a little, and Jor’s kind of pissed at me for that.”

Dr. Banner looked worried. “He’s angry with you?”

Erika quickly caught his worry. “Oh, no, don’t worry—my Jor would never hurt me,” she reassured him. “He and Fenrir are just big softies.”

“Just remember, this one’s not your brother,” said Dr. Banner.

Erika’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “Believe me, I know.”

 

 

-          - - - - - -- - - -- - - -- - - - - -

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ready for the big finish? No? Too bad!


	23. twenty three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand, here’s the Boss Fight, a whopping 7 pages!

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - -- - - - --- - - - -- -

 

“You sure this will work?” Tony asked as he stood in his suit in a large circle with the others sans Bruce, runes and lines drawn with chalk and blood to make a Pentagram in the middle of their circle. Everyone was geared up and pointing their weapons near the middle of the circle.

Erika stood directly across from Tony. “It’ll work,” she said, holding Loki’s spellbook. “Everyone get ready—Odin says I only have one shot, so I need him immobilized.” She began speaking in Old Norse, and a high wind kicked up in the middle of the circle.

 

 

-          - - - - -- - --- - -- -- -- --

 

Jormungand felt the summoning spell pulling at him. He grabbed hold of the bonds that tethered his siblings to him and pulled. “Time for some fun,” he said, and then he vanished from where he’d been standing.

In Helheim, Hela tried to fight the pull.

In Asgard, Fenrir snarled with the conflicting spells—find and kill Odin, or follow Jormungand. The latter was a stronger pull, and he gave up his search for the Allfather.

On Asgard’s throne, Loki watched the circle of Avengers pull his children towards them, and he grinned.

This was going to be interesting.

 

 

 

-          - - - -- - -- - - - - - -- - -- - - -

 

 

Jormungand arrived in the middle of the pentagram in a swirl of smoke and wind. “Well, now, all this for me?” he drawled.

“Don’t move,” Clint warned, pointing his weapon at Jormungand, who shifted slightly. Clint fired an arrow.

Jormungand caught it and ‘tsk’d. The arrow disintegrated. Jormungand glared at Clint and the archer fell to the ground, convulsing. “You really think some chalk lines and a little blood will restrain me?” he asked condescendingly. “You think a little arrow can stop me?”

Natasha took aim and fired. The bullet was deflected and Natasha rushed him. She was stopped mid-way and dropped to her knees, gasping for air.

Jormungand was still focused on Clint when Steve threw his shield. Jormungand’s focus broke then and his attention turned to Steve as he deflected the shield. “Did you know, in my dearest Little Sister’s world, we’re married,” he purred dangerously, and grinned wickedly at the face Steve made. “You’re not completely unappealing,” Jormungand continued. “I think I’ll kill you last.”

Steve tried to move, but he found himself rooted to the spot—no shield, no control over himself; he couldn’t even speak.

Jormungand made a fist and Bucky was suddenly choking himself with his metal arm.

Sam took aim but was sent flying backwards.

Jormungand made another grabbing motion with his hands and Thor grabbed at his own throats, choking for air. He staggered forward, but then fell to his knees.

“Stop!” Erika yelled when Tony’s suit was ripped from him in pieces, the same invisible force choking him.

“I summoned our siblings here, Little Sister, but I don’t think they’ll be needed, after all,” said Jormungand. “Your little team is no match for me.”

She felt when he sent a spell her way, but it bounced off of her.

Jormungand’s eyes narrowed. “A protection spell—how quant.”

Erika screamed at the spell Odin had laid into her was ripped from her, and then she was flung aside.

She opened her eyes.

A dead woman and a wild looking man in furs and armor stood above her—Hela and Fenrir.

“This is the one who freed him?” this world’s Hela asked skeptically. “Doesn’t look like much to me.”

Fenrir just stared blankly at her.

Jormungand pushed them aside and grabbed Erika by the throat. “I’m going to kill you precious Avengers,” he hissed. “I’m going to eat them, and I’m going to make you watch, and then when I’ve devoured every last one of them, I’ll have you for dessert.” He licked his lips. “Best make sure you can’t scamper off—one bite, and you won’t be able to move.”

Erika couldn’t even scream.

Jormungand revealed needle sharp teeth and a long, forked tongue. Before he could do anything, though, he was pulled away by . . . . .

Okay, Erika must have hit her head—that was the only explanation for why her Jormungand was currently holding this douchebag Jormungand in a death grip. “Get away from my sister!” he spat, and then he threw douchebag Jormungand away from her.

Her Fenrir and Hela were there, too, in their full armor, standing protectively over her while her Jormungand knelt beside her. “Stay with me, Little Sister,” he murmured. “We’ll bring you home soon enough.” He looked back up behind him and Erika caught sight of Tony and Loki— _her_ Tony and Loki—running towards her.

“Oh my god, Erika,” said Tony, kneeling beside her. “Hey, Kiddo, you’re gonna be okay, yeah? We’re gonna get you home.” A shimmering gold dome appeared over the three of them.

Erika looked out from behind the shimmering transparent dome.

It was a sight to behold.

Two Fenrirs in wolf form were trying to tear each other’s throats out, two Helas were trying to out-curse the other, and Jor was currently getting the shit kicked out of him by his evil twin.

There was also a small army of zombies attacking this world’s Avengers, who were no longer immobilized by Jormungand’s magic.

Erika glanced around until her gaze landed on Fenrir’s discarded sword.

“This needs to end,” she rasped, pulling upon her siblings to give her extra strength. They did so willingly, not even pausing in their battles. Erika braced herself and pushed her parents away, reaching for the sword. Ignoring her parents warning cries, she surged out of the protective bubble. She cut her way through undead bodies, fighting towards her brother and his doppleganger.

“What are you doing?” Jor demanded when she tried to attack Jormungad. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“I started this!” She yelled. “I’m going to finish it!”

Jormungand seemed to find this hilarious, and Jor was looking at her like she was crazy. Jor was distracted, and that was enough for Jormungand to knock him away. “So heroic,” he purred. “Is my Little Sister really going to have the nerve to kill me, I wonder?”

“Don’t make me do this, Jormungand!” Erika yelled. “You can’t be _all_ evil—make this stop!”

Jormungand’s laughter was cold and cruel, and Erika realized that banishing him again wasn’t going to cut it—he needed to die.

Erika took a deep breath, and then she swung the sword. It was knocked out of her hand and she was flung to the ground.

“Nice try, Little Sister” Jormungand sneered.

 “Not done yet,” she said, spitting blood on the ground by his feet, and then she teleported.

At home, her Jormungand had always told her that out of all the magics, her teleportation was the most improved—she could move almost too fast for him to keep up.

Erika teleported to where the sword was. She grabbed it and teleported behind Jormungand. In the time it took for Jormungand to turn around and face her, she teleported behind him again and, muttering a spell that made the sword glow for a moment, she ran him through with Fenrir’s sword.

Erika was knocked to the ground again. “That _stings,”_ Jormungand growled, frowning and looking down at the sword. “I can heal this in an instant; you really think this will kill me?” he spat, pulling out the sword and wincing slightly.

‘Holy shit,’ Erika thought, because her Jormungand had almost been killed when he’d been impaled by Amora—this one was looking at the sword wound like it was a mosquito bite. ‘This better work,’ she thought. “Nope,” she said, coughing again. “A curse ought to do it, though,” she said smugly.

Jormungand’s face twisted into a grimace and he looked down at newly healed wound, then at his hands. Runes were appearing on his hands, burned onto his flesh. He shook his hands, then he started clawing at his neck and face and more runes appeared over them like he’d been branded with a hot iron. “NO, no NO nononoononoNO!” He shrieked. “ _WHAT DID **YOU DO**?!”_

“Like I said, a curse ought to do it,” said Erika. “Avada Kedavra, Bitch.” Jormungand could only stare at her in abject horror as he slowly burned away from the inside.

“By the way, _Bro_ ,” spat Erika, her voice taking on a nasty tone. “I’m not _your_ Little Sister.” She jerked her head towards Jor, who was on his feet again. “I’m _his_.”

Jormungand shrieked, his flesh turning to ash before their eyes. He gave one last scream, and then he was nothing but a charred pile of ash and smoke that was blown away by a gust of wind.

This world’s Fenrir, still in wolf form and with his brother’s commands no longer burning in his blood, seemed to lose all will to fight. He staggered slightly and shook himself, whining.

This world’s Hela was brought down by another curse, and she decided it was better to retreat and live to fight another day, on her own terms. She placed a hand on Fenrir and they both vanished, along with her undead army.

The Avengers were regrouping, slowly getting themselves together.

“Well, I feel useless,’ said Sam. “Here I am taking out zombie mooks while Miss Ninja over there takes out the Big Bad. You got game, girl,” he told Erika, and she smiled weakly before swaying slightly, ready to fall over.

Jor caught her and made sure he had a firm grip on her so she wouldn’t fall.

“Bird Brain Two is right,” Tony groaned. “I feel about as useful as a steer on a dairy farm. Ugh, I’m getting too old for this. Now I know how you feel, Cap.”

“Very funny, Tony,” Steve sighed, eyeing Erika’s Hela and Fenrir, now human shaped, warily, and downright glaring suspiciously at her Jormungand.

“They’re fine,” Erika said, pushing Jor away and hobbling forward. “This is Hela and Fenrir. And _this_ is Jor,” she said motioning back towards Jormungand. “This pain in the ass is the best brother in the world—no offense, Fen,” she added.

Fenrir shrugged.

Jormungand walked over to where Steve’s shield lay. He brought his foot down on the edge, which caused the shield to snap upwards. He caught it by the handle effortlessly and headed back. “I believe this is yours,” he said, handing the shield over to Steve.

“Um, thanks,” said Steve, a little surprised—he’d done that almost as effortlessly as Steve himself.

Jormungand seemed to read his mind. “The first time I tried, I nearly took off my head.” He smiled slightly. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“With my shield?” Steve asked skeptically. He looked at Jormungand, then at Erika. “What the other one said, about your brother and the other me . . . is that true?”

Erika hesitated. “Not like it’ll change anything,” she sighed. “Yeah. The wedding was a little before I got stuck here.” She looked at her Jormungand. “You guys didn’t cut your honeymoon short because of me, did you?”

Jormungand shook his head. “I asked to leave early—I was worried about Erik.”

Erika frowned slightly but didn’t say anything—there was something he wasn’t telling her, but she would ask him later.

Steve wondered who Erik was, but decided he probably didn’t want to know—he’d had enough surprises for the day.

The Avengers of this world seemed to have relaxed, but then Thor’s broken “Loki?” sent them on high alert again.

“I’m not your Loki,” Loki snapped, rushing forward towards Erika. To her he said, “That was incredibly foolish, Child.”

“Yeah, but it was pretty cool,” said Tony—her Tony—as he joined Loki. “You gotta admit—she has nerves of steel.”

“She’s reckless,” Loki ground out. “I blame you for that.”

“Oh, okay, Mister God of Chaos.”

“Hey!” Erika interrupted.

Her parents looked at her.

“You know I love you both, and I would love to sit here and watch you argue like the old married couple you’re going to become, but for right now,” she said, wincing as she shifted her weight. “I’d like to go home.”

Loki’s gaze softened. “Of course, _dóttir mín,”_ he said gently.

“Where’s Aiden?” Tony asked. “Not that I care, but his douchebag daddy probably wants him back.”

Erika groaned. “Right. Aiden. Ugh, I’m going to beat the snot out of that little punk for putting me through this.” She closed her eyes and muttered a spell, and moments later a dizzy looking Aiden Hammer popped into existence and was immediately rendered unconscious and hefted up by Fenrir.

Jormungand walked away from Steve and joined his father. Hela and Fenrir joined him as well, and soon there was a black portal opening in front of them.

Before she left, Erika hobbled over to this world’s Tony, who was standing away from the others. She hesitated before she hugged him. “Thanks,” she said quietly.

He hugged her back. “No problem, Kid.” He gave her a warm smile and glanced over to where her Tony was standing beside her Loki. “So, this is a little weird,” he admitted.

Erika shrugged. “I’ve seen weirder.”

“Also,” said Tony, motioning towards Loki. “I’m guessing he’s your . . . .”

“Mother,” she supplied.

“Yeah, but here’s the thing—at first, I thought Pepper was your mom, but then I thought you hinted that your mother was a Scandinavian supermodel,” he countered, raising an eyebrow.

She tried not to smile too wide as she said, “Well, he was when you met him in 1987.”

“Uh-huh. Well, glad to see your Loki’s not batshit crazy – he looks almost normal.”

Erika smiled. “Yeah, he’s doing good, I think. You’re good for each other.”

Tony gave her a disbelieving look and she laughed. “I mean it – I think your crazy cancels his out. Even if you weren’t all kissy-face with him, maybe being friends would be enough?”

Tony shrugged. “Our Loki is dead, so I guess we’ll never know.”

Erika glanced back at her own Loki. “He faked his death – yours might have, too. Like you said, though, you’ll probably never know.”

“Sorry to break up this sickeningly sweet non-Father-Daughter moment, but I thought you said you wanted to go home,” said Fenrir, coming up beside her.

“Bye, Tony,” said Erika, and then she hobbled back to her family with Fenrir’s help. “How did you guys even find me?” she asked once she got over to the portal.

“Ancient Chinese Secret,” Loki deadpanned while gently tapping the tip of her nose, and Erika laughed so hard she thought she might have cracked another rib.

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

**Stark Tower, Erika’s world**

“Oh my god, I’m so glad to be home,” Erika groaned as she collapsed on the couch. “I’m never going out during wacko villain attacks ever again,” she sighed, rubbing her bad leg. “Where’s Aiden? I owe that little bastard a punch in the face.”

“He’s currently being watched over by Hela,” said Loki, sitting next to her. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he left here in a body bag.”

Erika leaned against Loki. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” said Tony from behind the couch. “Though, now that I think about it, didn’t I tell you to get back to the Tower?”

Erika closed her eyes. “Seriously? We’re doing this now?”

“Yeah, we’re doing this now,” said Tony, coming around the couch to kneel in front of her. “Erika, I _told_ you to come back—what were you thinking?”

Erika didn’t look at him. “I just . . . . wanted to help,” she muttered. “The suit got trashed, by the way, when I crash landed in Other Tony’s tower. Sorry,” she muttered.

“I don’t care about the suit. You scared the shit out of me—out of all of us! It’s a miracle Loki was able to find you, and an even bigger one that we were able to get to you without the universe imploding and weird paradox things happening.” He put a hand on Erika’s shoulder. “Kiddo, you don’t need to bring down Doom to prove you can help. You help enough with everything else—leave the actual villain facing to us from now on.”

Loki cleared his throat. “Actually, I was thinking about what you said—she did show great courage on the battlefield.”

“Yeah, and you were right—it was stupid,” said Tony. “She could’ve gotten herself killed.”

“Tony, she’s not a baby,” Loki sighed. “She held her own against my son—that in itself is impressive.” He ran a hand through Erika’s hair. “Jormungand shares my talent for magic. That’s why I didn’t interfere when he faced his double—he’s just as strong, just as capable of bringing this world to its knees.”

This made Erika look at Jormungand like he had two heads. He shifted his weight, leaning his hip against the wall, clearly uncomfortable with the attention.

“You have the power to end the world,” said Erika slowly. “You could wipe us off the map. You could rule the freaking universe, and instead, you . . . . .”

“Didn’t?” Jormungand asked.

“You got _married_ ,” she said incredulously. “You’re something out of a friggin’ H.P. Lovecraft story, and you sat with me and _tried cake samples_. I mean, I’m glad you’re not a power tripping psycho, but _what the hell?_ ”

“The spotlight makes him uncomfortable,” said Loki, and Erika started giggling like a maniac, because her brother didn’t crush them all _just because he didn’t want the attention._

Her life was _awesome_.

“Oh! Before I forget, here,” she said once her giggle fit ended, and she pulled the Yggdrasil Staff out of thin air. “I finally nailed the pocket dimension thing,” she said proudly, presenting the staff to Loki. “This is what Aiden was using when we got sucked into Bizarro World.”

Loki took the staff in his hand, running a hand over its knarled surface. “Where did he get this, I wonder?”

“No idea, but I think he was working with Doom when we went missing.”

Nobody had a clue how Doom had gotten then staff, so Loki banished it to his own pocket dimension and put thoughts of it out of his mind.


	24. twenty four

“ _Auntie!”_ Erik yelled as he came barreling into the room, launching himself at Erika, who did her best not to fall over. _“Auntie, you’re home!”_

“Yeah, Buddy, I’m home,” said Erika, hugging Erik tightly.

_“You scared Momma and Papa, and Auntie Hela, and Uncle Sleipnir, and Uncle Fenrir, and Grandfather Tony, and Grandfather Loki, and Uncle Bruce, and Auntie Tasha, and Uncle Clint, and Uncle Thor!”_ said Erik in one breath, pausing at the end. “ _You didn’t scare me,”_ he insisted.

“Yeah? How come?” Erika asked, putting Erik down.

“ _You argue with Uncle Fenrir all the time—you can do anything!”_ said Erik.

Erik was a little scared of Fenrir, despite Jormungand and Erika constantly telling him not to be.

Erika couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped her as she ruffled. “Whatever you say, Kid. Man, Universe travel made me hungry—wanna go get pizza?”

“ _Yeah!”_

Erik scampered off to ask Jormungand if it was okay for him to go get pizza with Erika, and Erika watched him go, a small smile tugging at her lips; she’d missed the little guy.

Erika checked the date on her phone and swore –it was almost Erik’s birthday, and her present to him wasn’t even close to being finished.

‘Well, I know what I’m doing after pizza,’ she thought.

 

 

 

 = - - - - - - -- - - - -- - - - - --

 

 

Erika was similar to Tony in a lot of ways. They were both loud, mouthy showoffs who spoke before thinking, they were both geniuses, and they both ate more pizza and cheeseburgers than was probably healthy (Tony did a lot of team workouts and so did Erika—plus, she’d apparently inherited the ‘god’ metabolism from Loki in the sense that she could binge on junk food and not really have to worry about her weight).

They also had a shared habit of locking themselves away for a days at a time with their workshop doors locked and their music cranked up.

Erika had locked herself away as soon as she and Erik had gotten back from their pizza outing, and she’d been locked in there for three days. On the fourth day, she emerged for food and a shower, and Loki could tell right away that she’d been using what magic she had to make sure she didn’t fall asleep.

Once food and hygiene were taken care of, she retreated back into her workshop, and was in there for another three days.

_“Is Auntie Erika okay?”_ Erik asked Steve.

“Yeah, Buddy, she’ll be fine,” said Steve, setting a plate of food down in front of Erik. He turned his back on Erik and didn’t see the little boy frown at the vegetables on his plate before picking up a piece of celery and staring at it in concentration. The piece of celery shimmered and changed into a chocolate cookie.

Loki had been sitting at the table with Erik with a bowl of fruit, and he was pleasantly surprised at his grandson’s show of magic. He was about to say something to Erik about his little trick, but Steve, not even turning around from the sink, said “Put it back, Erik.”

Erik pouted but turned the cookie back into celery, biting into it unhappily.

“How long has he been able to do that?” Loki asked, curious about his grandson’s abilities—being able to change something from one form to another was no small feat, and it was incredibly advanced for someone so young.

“Not long,” said Steve, coming back to the table with his own plate. Clint and Natasha had gone out for lunch, Bruce had already eaten, and Tony wasn’t hungry (“Who has time for food when there’s Science to be done?!”). Fenrir and Hela were sparring, and Jor and Sleipnir had followed Erika down to her workshop, so it was just Steve, Loki, and Erik. “Jor says he could do things when he was a baby, but they were all accidents—once, he sneezed and turned all the water in their apartment building’s pipes into chocolate milk.”

That was something Loki would have done at one point in his life, actually, and he chuckled. “Already causing mischief _, lítið eitt?”_ he asked, smirking as he watched Erik, who said in his and Jormungand’s tongue, “ _Mama thought it was funny, but the lady who owned the building didn’t think so. She didn’t know it was me, though, so she wasn’t mad at Mama. Mama says a lot of people were mad.”_

_“Oh, I bet they were,”_ Loki said. “ _Tell me, have you ever done something like that on purpose?”_

Erik tilted his head. “ _Wouldn’t people be mad at me?_ ”

“ _Ah, but that’s part of the fun. Their anger doesn’t last—you wouldn’t mean them any harm, after all; it would just be a joke._ ”

Steve looked between Erik and Loki, chewing on a sandwich.

A wicked idea took hold in Loki’s mind. _“Watch closely, Little One,_ ” he said, and with a flick of his fingers Steve’s turkey sandwich had limbs and teeth and was trying to bite the soldier. Steve jumped in his surprise and swatted the sandwich away. The sandwich growled again before skittering off across the kitchen floor.

Erik was giggling madly and Loki was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Steve glared at Loki. “I don’t recall making that sandwich to go,” he said dryly, and Erik laughed harder. His laughter seemed to melt Steve’s anger until he sighed and gave a small huff before saying, “I guess I’ll just make another one—I’d like to eat this one, though, so please refrain from giving it sentience.”

Later, when Loki was sitting in a corner of the main living area with a book in his lap, he heard Steve say, “I think your dad is trying to corrupt our son.”

“It’s all in good fun,” Loki heard Jormungand chuckle. “Father’s tricks are just that—tricks. He means no ill will.”

Loki heard Steve huff. “Yeah, but I don’t want my kid growing up thinking its okay to give someone’s sandwich _teeth,”_ he argued, and Jormungand laughed quietly.

“It was only meant to startle you,” Jormungand insisted. “Besides, Father likes Erik, and he’s already shown to have magical potential—it wouldn’t hurt to let him learn a few tricks.”

“Fine, but our next kid better be normal,” Steve said, and Loki wondered if he’d meant to say that, because there was a heavy pause, followed by Jormungand asking hesitantly, in a small voice, “You . . . want more children?” and Loki had never heard his son sound so vulnerable or hopeful before.

Steve answered after another quiet moment. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. Maybe not right now, but eventually, if you’re okay with thmmph!”

Steve’s sentence was cut off and the next few minutes were filled with the sounds of Loki’s son and Steve kissing, followed by his son’s quiet, breathy moans.

“ _Want you_ ,” Loki heard Jormungand moan quietly in their tongue. “ _Take me here, right n-now, and_ _I’ll give you as many children as you want.”_

Loki teleported to Tony’s workshop before he heard any more.

Tony’s music cut off and he looked up, about to yell at whoever was interrupting his Science Time, but his gaze softened when he saw it was Loki. “Hey, Babe,” he greeted, setting aside the welding tool in his hand and spinning in his chair. “J.A.R.V.I.S, what time is it?”

_Twelve forty-five, Sir,”_ the AI responded. “ _Perhaps you should retire for the evening and get a fresh start tomorrow?”_

 “Yeah, but Science!” he argued. “Science waits for no man, J!”

“You’re ridiculous,” said Loki, moving towards Tony and plopping himself down in the genius’s lap. “Your computer is right—come to bed, Science can wait until tomorrow.”

Tony looked ready to argue, but Loki leaned forward and kissed him, and he quickly agreed to clean up and call it a night.

 

 

 

-          - - - - -- - -- - - - - - --

 

Erik’s birthday was a few days away when Erika finished her present to him.

“So, what are we doing for a party?” she asked Steve, who looked beside him at Erik, who was trying way too hard to look like he wasn’t listening in on their conversation.

“It’s a surprise,” said Steve carefully. Later, when Erik was out of earshot, Steve told her what Tony’s idea for a party had been, and that he’d hesitated, but eventually agreed, and so had Jormungand.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Erika admitted. “Will the city be safe if someone tried to launch an attack?”

“I’ve already thought of that,” said Hela from behind them.

Erika and Steve jumped slightly, and Hela smiled sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said—she could be really quiet without meaning to. “Anyway, about your worries—I’ve actually thought of something to deter anyone from launching any attacks on the city while we’re gone—especially Hydra and that odd man in the metal mask. As you may have guessed, Fenrir isn’t a people person—he, Sleipnir, and I will be staying behind with Dr. Banner. I think two mages, a warrior, and a Hulk can handle any emergencies.”

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - -- - -

 

Erik woke up ridiculously early on his birthday, which was fine, because everyone else was getting up, too.

Well, almost everyone.

“For the love of Odin, Anthony, get up!”

“nnnnnn.”

“Oh, for Valhalla’s sake, you ridiculous man, this was _your idea_. If you don’t get up right now, I’m not letting you touch me for a very long time.”

“Ughhh, _fine,_ I’m up.”

Steve was ready before anyone else and was waiting in the kitchen, drinking coffee. Jormungand brought a very excited Erik (who had figured out their trip was for his birthday) into the kitchen for breakfast.

“What would the birthday boy like for breakfast?” Jormungand asked his son.

“Pancakes! Please,” Erik added hastily, and Jormungand smiled before starting in on his son’s birthday breakfast. There were enough pancakes ready to feed a small army by the time the others were up and mobile, and Erik was already on his third plate.

“Don’t eat too much, Buddy—you don’t wanna get sick,” said Steve, watching his son pack away pancake after pancake.

Erik swallowed his mouthful of food before saying, “Okay, Papa,” and then going right back to shoveling food in his little mouth.

Steve sighed.

“Alright, pancakes!” Bucky crowed as he and Sam came into the kitchen, the last ones to wake up. Sam looked _exhausted_.

“What’s wrong?” asked Steve, concerned for his friend, whom he knew to be an early riser.

“ _Someone_ kept me up a little later than they should have,” said Sam irritably, glaring at Bucky, who just shrugged and started devouring pancakes.

“Didn’t hear you complaining last night,” Bucky said around a mouthful of food, and Sam recoiled.

“Man, chew your food,” he grumbled, and rolled his eyes when Bucky opened his mouth wide mid-chew. “Stop starin’ like that, Cap, or your face will stick,” he said to Steve, who was looking between his new and old friend with wide eyes.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,” Clint muttered into his coffee. Natasha elbowed him. “Oww! Geez!”

“. . . . . . Okay then, let’s wrap up breakfast so we can get going,” said Tony.

“Yeahh, about that,” said Bucky after swallowing his mouthful of pancake.

“We’re sitting this one out,” said Sam. To Steve, he said, “Have fun, though.”

Bucky frowned. “ _I’m_ sitting out—you can still go.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, like I’m leaving you and the Big Bad Wolf alone together.”

The look Bucky gave Sam made Tony make a gagging sound, which made Loki and Natasha whump each of his shoulders.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - -


	25. twenty five

“Where are we going?” Erik asked later as he sat beside Erika, a blindfold over his eyes.

“It’s a surprise,” said Erika.

 “It’s really hot,” said Erik.

“It’s Florida, Kid, it’s gonna be hot.”

“Why are we in Florida?”

“Surprise,” Erika reminded him, and Erik fell quiet for a while.

 

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

“Happy Birthday, Erik!”

Erik’s blindfold was removed and his eyes widened.

They were standing in front of the Walt Disney World Magic Kingdom Park, and Erik looked like he was going to explode.

“Come on, Buddy, race you inside!” Erika said excitedly, and she let Erik take a head start before running after him. The others followed at a slower pace and split up as soon as they got in, with a plan to meet up later.

“Have you ever been here?” Jormungand asked Steve and Erika as they waited in line for the Mad Tea Party ride – Tony had gotten them VIP fast passes, but Steve felt bad and didn’t want to cut in front of anyone.

“Mom and Dad took me here when I was little, but I don’t really remember much,” said Erika.

“It wasn’t here in the Forties,” said Steve. “Even if it had been, I wouldn’t have been able to afford to come.”

Their turn came up and they had to split up—Steve took up a lot of room. He and Erik took one teacup while Erika and Jormungand took another. “Okay, the idea is to spin as fast as you can,” Erika told Jormungand right before the ride started. “So grab the middle piece and _spin—_ just don’t break it,” she reminded her unnaturally strong brother. “Same goes to you, Cap—I don’t know how much strain these things can handle,” she called to Steve, who gave her a thumbs up.

The ride started and Erika immediately started trying to spin the teacup. “Jeez, what do you weight?” she groaned, the teacup not moving very fast.

“Ha ha,” Jormungand deadpanned, reaching for the middle piece, and soon he had the teacup going faster than one person should be able to. Halfway through the ride, he stopped making it spin, and he was forced back in his seat by the sheer force of how fast they were going. Erika was having a _blast,_ and she didn’t seem to notice her brother’s sudden discomfort, or the fact that he looked slightly ill.

“Again!” Erik cheered when the ride was over and they all clambered out of the teacups. “Let’s go again!”

“I’m in!” chimed Erika. “How bout it, Cap? You up for round two?”

Steve smiled—he’d had fun, and was about to say ‘sure, why not,’ but then he noticed Jormungand wasn’t with them. He looked behind him to see Jormungand leaning on another teacup, looking like he might lose his breakfast. “I think we’ll sit this one out,” said Steve, going back to help Jormungand walk out of the attraction. “You two go ahead and hop back in like—we’ll be waiting over there,” he said, pointing to a nearby bench.

“Is Mama okay?” Erik asked.

Jormungand swallowed. “I’m f-fine,” he said, giving Erik a shaky smile. “Go on and have fun, I’ll just wait with your Papa.”

“Okay!” Erik said, then grabbed Erika’s hand and pulled her back towards the line. Steve and Jormungand walked over to the bench and Steve eased Jormungand down, the shorter man holding his stomach.

“Is this –ugh—what Midgardians do for _fun_?” Jormungand groaned, leaning heavily against Steve. “They’re not _all_ like this, are they?”

“I don’t think so,” said Steve. “Are you gonna be okay for other rides, or do you wanna sit the rest of them out?”

Jormungand shook his head. “I’ll be fine,” he said quietly. “I just—need to stay here a moment.” He closed his eyes and took deep breaths.

They went on It’s a Small World after that, to give Jormungand a nice, easy ride.

“Wow, maybe it’s a good thing Dr. Banner stayed behind,” said Erika in the middle of it. “I don’t know if the Other Guy would like hearing this song over, and over. And Over. Even if it’s a different language.” Bruce’s patience was legendary, but nobody was willing to push him (except Tony—Tony _loved_ pushing him). She came out of the ride humming the tune, and stopped in horror, groaning. “Great, now it’s stuck in my head. Come on, Buddy, let’s go on the Dumbo ride,” she muttered.

After Erika and Erik rode the Dumbo ride, Erik rode his first coaster—something called the Barnstormer.

He _loved it_.

“Are there any more roller coasters?” he asked Erika, who looked at her StarkPhone and the park’s website she’d pulled up.

“There’s one in FrontierLand and TomorrowLand,” she said. “It’s getting close to lunch, though—we should head over to where we said we’d meet the others. We can head over to FrontierLand after that, if you want.”

“Okay,” said Erik, letting Erika lead him towards the group’s meeting spot.

“This whole park is lucky Banner didn’t come,” was Clint’s first words when they all regrouped. “There’s a lot of kids here, and most of them are _not_ happy.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” said Tony. “There was one kid in the Carousel of Progress that _wouldn’t shut up_.”

“Hush, Anthony, she was probably bored,” said Loki. “Small children, I’m coming to understand, like faster, less educational rides.”

“Yeah, well, the animatronics sucked,” said Tony. “Who’s up for a cheeseburger?”

Erika and Clint raised their hand immediately.

“Can we get ice cream, too?” Erik asked.

“Real food first, Buddy, then we’ll see about ice cream,” said Steve.

The place they settled on needed a reservation, but Tony took care of it and they got a table. Tony, Clint and Erika got their cheeseburgers, while Steve settled on a Philly Cheesesteak and Natasha chose a grilled chicken sandwich. Erik wasn’t sure what he wanted, but after seeing someone else’s cheeseburger he decided that was what he wanted.

“What’s with the rabbit food, Lo?” Tony asked Loki, eyeing the god’s chicken strawberry salad.

Loki only shrugged. “I’m not really hungry.” He looked over to Jormungand, who hadn’t ordered anything. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” said Jormungand. “Just a bit queasy.”

 “What’s wrong, Bean Pole, get motion sick?” asked Tony before taking a bite of cheeseburger.

“I just can’t go on rides that do this,” said Jormungand, mimicking a merry-go-round’s motion with his finger. “Anything else is fine, I think.”

 

 

-          - - - - -- - - - - - -- - - --

 

They stayed together after lunch, moving through each section of the park. TomorrowLand was last, and Tony was excited because he and Loki hadn’t gone on Space Mountain yet.

They saved that for last, and Erik seemed to have just as much fun waiting in line and looking at all the outer space displays. When they got closer to the front, Tony saw that Erik wasn’t quite tall enough to ride it. The next thing Tony knew, Erik had noticed, too, and had changed his height accordingly.

“Careful, Kid, people are watching,” he said quietly. Erika had noticed, too, and a quick glance around told her that nobody outside of their own group had noticed Erik’s subtle use of magic.

“It’s okay, Dad, I don’t think anyone is,” she aid just as quietly, and Tony looked around to see what Erika had seen—nobody else in line had noticed.

“You cast a misdirection spell, didn’t you?” Jormungand asked quietly, and Erik nodded happily.

“Clever boy,” Loki murmured.

The ride carts were four seats split into two compartments. Loki, Tony, Clint and Natasha went first, and Erika, Steve, Erik and Jormungand climbed into the next available carts. The ride started, and they ascended into a dark tunnel.

“Here we go!” Erika yelled, and she heard her Dad’s answering cheer in front of them, and then they were speeding along the tracks amongst flashing lights and the sounds of other people’s screaming. Erika’s own screams of delight joined in, and she threw her hands up.

 “That was awesome!” she yelled excitedly after they got off and headed for the exit.

 “Who wants to go again?” Tony asked once they were in earshot of each other. “I don’t care if nobody else is, I’m using my damn pass and going again!” Steve and Jormungand declined, and so did Natasha and Loki, so they waited outside while Tony, Erika, Clint, and Erik went back to go again.

“ _Humans are insane,”_ Jormungand muttered, watching people line up for the ride.

“ _They’re thrill seekers,”_ said Loki. “ _It’s no different than dragon riding—they’re just as fast.”_

_“Yes, but I trust the dragon not to break suddenly and send me plummeting to my death.”_ A fall from the ride wouldn’t kill him and they both knew it, but Loki let it be.

Erik’s birthday ended with the fireworks show, and he was asleep for the jet ride back home.

“Welcome back,” said Hela, looking up from her book when they got back to the tower. “Did he enjoy himself?”

“He had a blast,” said Tony. “Any trouble?”

Hela shook her head. “Everything was quiet. Sam and James went out earlier, but they weren’t gone long.” She glanced at Erik, asleep in Jormungand’s arms. “I suppose we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to give Erik his gifts.”

“Well, I’m gonna hit the hay,” said Erika, yawning. “Night.”

Jormungand took Erik up to the boy’s room and tucked him in, kissing his forehead before leaving the room. He got ready for bed and crawled in next to Steve.

“Feeling better?” Steve asked.

Jormungand ‘hmm’d. “A little,” he said quietly, curling up against Steve.

“Really? Just ‘a little?’” Steve asked, running a hand up and down Jormunand’s arm. “Anything I can do to help?”

Jormungand ‘hmm’d again, and then in the blink of an eye he was on top of Steve, straddling him and running his hands up and down Steve’s chest. “I can think of a few remedies,” he said, leaning forward until his forehead was touching Steve’s.

Steve swallowed and reached to grab Jormungand by the hips. “Yeah?” he asked thickly.

“Mm-hmm,” Jormungand hummed. “I hope you weren’t thinking of going to sleep, because I plan to spend the rest of the night riding you until we both forget our names.”

And that’s just what he did.

 

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - --

 

 

Steve and Jormungand got up late the next morning. Erik had already gotten his presents from everyone, and Erika was about to give him her gift.

“Let us go first, please, so he’s not underwhelmed,” said Steve, and Erika laughed—she’d shown her present to Steve and his confidence in his own gift had dwindled.

“Sure thing, Cap—go nuts,” she said, and Steve brought out a box half as tall as Erik, wrapped in brightly colored paper.

The paper didn’t stand a chance, and Erik squealed in delight at his newest toy—an armor covered missile shooting T-Rex. “ _Þakka þér , mamma ! Þakka þér , pabbi !”_ he said excitedly, hugging Steve first, then Jormungand.

“That’s mostly from your _pabbi,”_ said Jormungand gently. “ _This_ is something I thought you might like—it goes with your _Afi_ ’s gift.”

Loki’s gift to Erik had been a small carved stone with a rune—“To focus your talents,” he’d said.

 Jormungand pulled a small wrapped package out from behind his back and handed it to Erik, who opened it more carefully than he did the dinosaur. A blue crystal pendant was wrapped carefully inside, and Jormungand gently took the chain from Erik and looped it around Erik’s neck. “This will also help you focus your power,” he said gently.

Erik turned the crystal this way and that, watching the light shine through it. _“Þakka þér , mamma,”_ he said, hugging Jormungand.

“You’re welcome, _sonur minn_.” 

They went out on the Tower’s launch pad for Erika’s gift reveal. She pulled out a small metal band and fixed it around Erik’s wrist. “Alright, Kiddo, this is locked onto your voice, so you gotta tell it what to do. Do you want your present to come to you?”

Erik nodded eagerly.

“’Kay, then just say ‘Come here.’”

‘Come here,’” Erik repeated. The bracelet blinked to life and shone a brilliant blue, and Erika motioned for Erik to take a few steps back. The launching pad opened, and something shot out of it, up into the sky. It arced up in the air, then came speeding down towards the tower, landing on the now closed pad with a metallic THUD.

“Is that . . . . .?” Sam started.

_“Það er dreki !”_ Erik shouted excitedly, surging forward towards his gift – a black and gold dragon made out of metal, with gold wings and glowing blue eyes. Its limbs shifted and it shook itself, opening its jaw wide showing a toothless mouth – the dragon was an almost exact replica of Toothless from the cartoon.

“Erik, meet Toothless 2.0., tweaked a bit, obviously, for copyright reasons.”

Erik’s fourth birthday party ended with him flying around Stark Tower strapped to a robotic dragon, with Erika flying right beside him in another suit Tony had made for her and everyone watching from the landing pad. Erika glanced over at her nephew and couldn’t help the grin that grew behind her faceplate.

She was still getting used to being back home, and she’d been having nightmares about Jor’s evil twin, but seeing how happy Erik was made her feel a little better. She was back where she belonged.

She was home.

 

-          - - - - - - - - - - - - - --

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Þakka þér , mamma ! Þakka þér , pabbi ! – Thank you, Mama! Thank you, Papa!
> 
> Afi -- Grandfather
> 
> Sonur minn – my son
> 
> Það er dreki ! – it’s a dragon!
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - - -
> 
> A/N: In the beginning I wanted to give Erik a real dragon, but then I thought, ‘eh, fuck it, Erika’s a Stark, she can build one.’
> 
> That’s it for ‘Still Ain’t Easy.’ I’ve got one more story planned, if anyone’s interested.

**Author's Note:**

> this one's only about 25 or so chapters long, and I'm gonna work on getting them posted.


End file.
